Denying the Undeniable
by the Steppenwolf
Summary: In the summer before Harry's 7th year he undergoes a change that will impact the entire wizarding world and once more finds himself different than everyone else. Along with the change comes a bond to a Vampire and a whole new set of challenges.
1. Someone Else

* Please refer to story summary for complete list of warnings. This chapter is particularly harmless, it mentions abuse, but is not graphic. All characters and recognizable settings, such as Number 4 Privet Drive, for example, belong to J.K. Rowling, not to me. There is no money being made off of this, and no copyright infringement is intended. All direct quotes are referenced.* Enjoy, and PLEASE REVIEW 

Pain. There was a throbbing, building pain coming from the back of his head. It was the first thing the Harry was aware of as he came slowly awake. The next was the feeling of grass beneath his body. Why was he lying on the grass? Had he fallen asleep in the yard again? He opened his eyes and was met with the blurry sight of a dark canopy of leaves hanging high above him. The sight confused him, until he turned and spotted his glasses laying about a foot from his right hand, and beyond that the ladder sat propped up at a rakish angle on the trunk of the tree.

Oh no. Harry scrambled up, ignoring the insistent twinge of his lower back and the sharp pain in his ankle. He snatched up his glasses and examined the ladder. Well, at least it hadn't broken when he fell. He had been working in the Jenisons' yard, "Earning his keep" as his uncle had termed it, and had just begun to trim the dead branches off of the old oak in the far corner when the branch that the ladder had been resting against gave a frightful _crack_ and he lost his balance. He must have hit his head on a branch on the way down because the next thing he knew he was waking up with a headache that was currently tap dancing on his brain. But that had been mid-afternoon, and it was dark now. Very dark. _Shit_. He was late, very, very late, and in his uncle's house you were never late, not if you wanted to sleep inside at night. Harry took off, hiking the ladder up onto his shoulder and sprinting through the park and down the street; he prayed fervently that his uncle and aunt had not yet returned from the dinner party they had attended that evening.

But luck was not on his side; luck was never on his side. The lights in number 4 Privet Drive were on; the car was parked resolutely in the center of the driveway. Harry dashed up the drive, leaned the ladder on the side of the house, being careful not to mark the paint, and slipped into the backyard. Creeping along the patio he dropped to his knees before the backdoor. He tapped softly, using just the tips of his fingers, half hoping that no one would hear.

"Da, it's back!" Dudley's voice bellowed as the door was wrenched violently open. Harry shifted and glanced up from the ground to see his uncle's massive form lumbering down the hallway. His face was contorted in anger, a deep purple hue, and the veins bulged at his temples.

Vernon's bulk took up the whole doorway, successfully blocking Harry's view of the living room.

"You're three hours later" Vernon hissed, "we've told you time and time again, be in by 5 o'clock, make the supper, finish you chores, go to bed; is it really that hard to follow instructions?"

"N-no Sir, please, I had an accident, hit my head, I've only just come around" Harry whispered softly, focusing on what he could see of his uncle's knees.

"Come around! Don't lie to me boy, you were asleep, lazing off, you ungrateful…" Vernon's roar startled Harry, and he flinched back, before resuming his position.

"Vernon!" Petunia's sharp voice called from somewhere in the house, "the neighbors, Vernon, they'll hear!"

"That's it" Vernon's voice was low and dangerous "you've disobeyed for the last time, go somewhere else, you will never come back into this house! Dudley, get the boy's trunk, bring it down here"

"But Sir" Harry's plea was cut off by Vernon suddenly throwing open the screen door, catching Harry full in the face. He gasped and rolled into a protective crouch, hands flying to his broken nose.

"No, no 'buts'" Vernon heaved Harry's trunk and threw it at the boy, catching him on the chest. Hedwig's cage followed, and Harry just barely managed to catch it before it hit the ground, ignoring his protesting ribs.

Then the door was slammed firmly shut and Harry was left alone, his meager belongings scattered around him. Fearing the return of his uncle, he quickly gathered up his things, and with Hedwig's cage placed atop his trunk, he started off towards the desolate little park at the end of the street. Everything hurt; his head, ankle, ribs, and his nose. His nose! Harry's hand once again flew to his face, and he carefully ran his fingers over his face. Bruising and swelling for sure, and his nose was definitely crooked. He sat down on a bench and pulled his cloak from his trunk. Sure it would get dirty, but he could clean it later, right now he was cold. And tired, and aching, and hungry.

There was no helping it; he couldn't go back. Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it straight up at the clear night sky. Then he sat and wished for all that he was worth that he wasn't Harry-Bloody-Potter, that he had a real family, that he didn't have to deal with all the shit that came with being the goddamn Savior all the time. What was he going to do when the Knight Bus finally got here? How was he going to explain that he was Harry Potter, had just gotten kicked out of his uncle's house and needed a ride to Diagon Alley?i _I wish I were someone else, just this once/i_, he begged with his whole being.

He nearly jumped when he felt his nose crunch back into place, and a cool tingling feeling rushed across his face and down his body. But he didn't have time to figure out what had happened for right that moment the Knight Bus came roaring down from the sky and screeched to a halt in front of him. Stan Shunpike popped out and leant against the bus.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. My name is Stan Shunpike and I will be your conductor this eveningi" he said in a bored monotone. Harry got up and pulled his trunk around to the door of the vehicle.

"What's your name and where to?" grunted Stan as he attempted to heave Harry's mostly empty trunk up the few steps onto the bus.

"Umm, err, you don't recognise me?" he asked, there was no way that Stan didn't recognise him this time. He had been lucky enough the first time, four years ago in his third year, when he had used Neville's name to avoid recognition, but there was no way, after all that had happened in these last few years that Stan still didn't know his face.

Stan stared at him hard for a moment, face scrunching up in concentration. "Nope" he declared finally, "should I?"

"No, well, I mean, I'm Harry Potter, right? So I thought…" Harry's embarrassed rambling was cut short by Stan's explosive laughter.

"Ha! Harry Potter, sure mate and I'm the Queen of England! Hey, Ern, last time you knew, did _the_ Harry Potter have blonde hair and brown eyes?" Ernie shook his head, chuckling. "Na, me neither, now, what's your real name" Stan asked, refocusing on Harry.

"D-Damon Hellsergiggle" Harry stuttered. Blond hair, brown eyes; what the hell was Stan talking about? "Well, with a name like that I'd want a new one too, maybe try one less well-known next time, eh kid?"

"Alright Ern, let's go" Stan called, ushering a bewildered Harry to an empty bed. "So where do you want to go?" he repeated as the bus gave a sickening lurch forward and shot into the sky.

"Diagon Alley, please" croaked Harry, just barely keeping down his panic when he caught sight of himself in a mirror stuck to one of the walls, obviously fastened with magic, as it neither swung nor fell as the bus jerked and shot in every which direct. He sat down heavily on his bed to keep from falling over. Blond hair, not quite like Malfoy's, thank God for small mercies, but dirty, dark blond, sat upon his head. Deep blue eyes peered out of his face, which had also changed. As Harry looked closely he could see the similarities; his chin was vaguely the same shape, his eyes where still the same as his mother's, although no longer green. His nose was crooked, just a little, where it had been broken early, but now the blood was gone. And so was his scar. Harry gasped quietly and ran his fingertip over the spot where his lightning bolt i_brand/i_ had always sat. Gone.

Harry's head whirled. He had wished to be someone else, and now he was. 'What the hell is going on?' he wondered. "Diagon Alley, your stop Damon" Stan called, dragging his trunk and Hedwig out the door. Harry followed quickly and paid his bill. Then he turned and for a moment stopped. He didn't know how long this i_transformation/i_ was going to last, so he couldn't stay at the Leaky Cauldron for fear of being seen. He wandered down the Alley, garnering odd looks from those who were still out doing their shopping. Harry looked down at himself and realised the image he must present. He was still wearing his cousin's ridiculously large shirt and shorts, both so old that in places you could count the threads that made them. And although that blood was gone from his face, it was still drying on his shirt and Hogwarts cloak. Harry quickened his pace, careful not to bump into anyone as he rushed past. He ducked into the first Inn he could find: The Gilded Sword.

It was dark inside, but homey. There was a fireplace so large that Harry could have walked right in without even bending, not that he was really that talk, even now. The fire was crackling happily, casting a flickering yellow light on the sturdy wooden tables and the patrons sitting at them, eating, talking and laughing. The floors were wood, and the brick walls were covered in ornately woven tapestries. It was warm and welcoming. The smell of food reminded him that he hadn't eaten, well, in a long while, and he stomach growled assertively at the sight of the hearty stew that many of the people were enjoying.

Harry set his luggage against the wall near the door and approached the bar. "Hello Dearie" a short, white haired woman called as he approached, "looking for something to eat, or a room?" she asked. Her voice was kind and her smile even kinder. She reminded Harry of someone's grandmother. "Both" he told her when he had reached the bar. "Alright then, dinner down here, or in your room, and what type of room would ya'like?" her warm smile stretched across her face and she had laughter line at the edges of her eyes. "I'd like a single room please Ma'am, and I'm really very tired, so I'd appreciate eating there, if I may" Harry knew he sounded timid, but he really was tired, and too much had happened today. He wanted nothing more than to get a room, eat some supper, take a pain potion or two, and sleep. On top of it all he was starting to get dizzy, the room blurring at the edges.

"Wow, what lovely manners, that's what's missing in your generation ya'know Dearie, good manners. Of course you can eat in your room, let me just nip back and grab you some nice hot stew and fresh rolls and I'll take you on up" she turned and disappeared behind a solid looking wood door labelled 'Kitchen, Staff only'. Barely a moment later she had returned, baring a tray piled high with a large bowl of stew, three rolls, a bottle of butterbeer, and a delicious looking piece of apple pie. "I hope you don't mind Dearie, but I guessed that you might be too young for any real alcohol, so I brought you this" she said, expertly balancing the heavy tray on one hand and gesturing with the other to the bottle. "Of course not," Harry couldn't help but smile, even as it sent a sharp pain lancing through his head, "I've just turned seventeen, though I know I don't look it, but I wouldn't want anything stronger right now anyway." Harry fell silent as Mrs. Natly, as he had learned on the way upstairs, led him into his room.

The room was large, dominated by a large bed with lush green velvet hanging, seemingly hundreds of pillows, and a fluffy green comforter. The walls were painted a tasteful cream that complimented the teak furniture and green dressings on the bed. "The bathroom is through here" Mrs. Natly called, heading into an adjoined room. It was a good size and sensibly decorated in creams and soft browns. It had a tub, vanity, toilet and a shelf with an assortment of necessities, such as bath salts, various cleaning potions, and to Harry's relief, a few small vials of pain potion and some minor healing potions. "If you need any of these go ahead," Mrs. Natly informed him, "the cost will just be added to your bill at the end of your stay" she headed out into the main room with Harry following. "Well, I'll just leave you to eat and relax" she said gently, heading towards the door "Oh, right, I need to know your name Dearie, for the ledger downstairs." She waited; Harry swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. He almost wished that he didn't have to lie to this woman. Then again, he figured, he wouldn't be lying, because right now, he wasn't Harry Potter. "Damon Hellsergiggle" he said with a sigh of pretend annoyance with the name. Mrs. Natly barely batted an eye, "Very good Dearie, now get some sleep, you look about ready to pass out" she added in a very maternal tone.

With that she was gone and the door shut behind her. Harry sighed, stretched then winced at the spikes of pain sprouting from his abused ribs. He wandered into his bathroom and grabbed two vials, one healing and one pain potion. He broke the seals and gulped them down, wincing at the bitter tastes. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. Blond hair, brown eyes, no scar; he barely recognized himself. Heck, in this body, his hair would even lay flat. Harry smiled and wandered back into the main room. Still smiling he sat down at the table and began to eat the wonderful smelling stew. This was going to be interesting, to say the least.

i Taken from J.K. Rowling's Prisoner of Azkaban. No copyright infringement intended.


	2. Gone

Severus Snape was confused, not that he looked it. No, on the surface he looked annoyed, and rather menacing, Potions Master's scowl set firmly in place. But underneath he was mystified. He had come to Diagon Alley to purchase a few much needed potions ingredients. After perusing the Apothecary and collecting the required supplies, he had come across some very _dissatisfactory_ Irish toad's saliva; really was it so hard to comprehend that if it was not stored at the correct temperature then the saliva would turn this putrid yellow and be rendered useless? Not that he would have cared on any other day, but today it so happened that the saliva of the Irish toad was the last item on his list, and there was no way in all of the wizarding world that he was going to pay twelve galleons for this sludge.

So he had taken a vial of the merchandise in question and had swept up to the front counter, with the accustomed swirl of his robes. The boy at the counter had been most apologetic, he didn't know why that particular product was not stored properly, he was merely there to stock shelves and man the desk; he didn't know anything about the subtle art of potion brewing. The boy had just begun to move around the barrier to go into the back room in search of a more acceptable sample, when he had suddenly frozen in place.

And that was where they stood now, the boy standing limply, gazing at Severus, blathering on in fragmented sentences of nonsense, and Severus glaring at him, trying to figure out exactly what had happened. "Sir … I, I mean, you … understand … eyes, please Sir" the boy mumbled, his dark fringe of hair falling forward into pale green eyes as he swayed where he stood. The brief break in eye contact seemed to help and for a moment the boy struggled towards clarity. "I will go … back room … get more … _eyes_" he stammered. And suddenly Severus knew what had happened and quickly shifted his obsidian gaze to the front window of the little shop. The boy trembled, shook his head as though to clear it, and moved shakily to the storeroom at the back of the shop.

How had this happened? Why now? Severus' mind whirled, his thoughts racing about in his mind. He hadn't lost control of his thrall for nearly three hundred years, since he was no more than a _fledgling_. It was unacceptable to force his power on a mortal, a mere boy, what was going on? As he waited for the undoubtedly now confused and embarrassed boy to return, he reached back into his mind, locating the link between him and his mate and examined the connection. With a start he realised that the link was blurry, his mate reading more as 'unwell', and 'not there' than the customary 'fine' and 'present'. His vampire instincts shifted uneasily. He could feel his fangs begin to lengthen, his pupils dilating rapidly.

With a wrench he pushed back these normal reactions to the insinuation that his mate might be in danger, and acknowledged the newly returned shop boy, ignoring the stuttered apologies and paid for the fresh vial of saliva, along with the other ingredients that he had gathered. Without so much as even a look back he took his bag and swept from the store, hurrying down the lane. After a series of brisk steps he apparated to the boundary at Hogwarts and continued at his rapid pace until he had safely reached his rooms in the dungeon. The cool air and dark, nearly damp, feel did little to calm the turmoil that he was experiencing. Dropping his things on a side table he ran the last few paces into his bedroom, ripping open his personal potions cupboard and yanking the cork from one small bottle he downed the vinegary purple concoction inside.

Severus sat heavily on his bed, fighting to control the basic urges that commanded him to go, find his mate, gather him in his arms and protect him from all harm. It became easier as the repressing effect of the potion, which he himself had formulated, slowly masked his instincts, slowing his breathing, drawing back his exposed fangs. So long, so long had he kept his nature locked away, letting the vampire out only to feed when the thirst became a fire raging at the back of his throat. Yet he had nearly lost control today, there in the Apothecary, nearly let the vampire take over. He shuddered to think of the sight he would have made; fangs bared, talons out, skin pale, eyes black, running down the middle of Diagon Alley, trying to find an unknown mate and protect him from unknown foes. No, that could not happen. Severus stood, and reached into his cupboard again, this time taking out a vial of sleeping potion. It wouldn't make him sleep, he hadn't slept in over three hundred years, not since he had be turned, but it would put him in a restful state, much like the state achieved through intense meditation. Swallowing the potion in one gulp, he loosened a few on the many buttons at his color and removed his outer robe, which he wore despite the extreme heat of the mid August sun. Lying down on the bed, he felt the potion taking effect, pulling him into a deep chasm of darkness.

_The July sun was brutal, bearing down on all that dared to venture outside with a vengeance. But Severus remained unbothered and unaware. He was cool, calm and mostly collected. He had to be, he was brewing a very particular potion. It wasn't just any potion, it was Ab Intra Incendia, and he was brewing for the Dark Lord. No mistake could be made; this potion was one of the most lethal, used as a form of torture; when consumed it turned the victim's inner organs to fire, but sustained life for hours._

_Just as he was adding the chopped beetles' eyes, he felt it. His mate had been born! He carefully schooled his shaking hand into obedience, placing the dish of eyes on the workbench. He trembled, shivered and shook, sweat dotting his brow. He must go to his mate, to see him, claim him (in only the verbal sense, of course, the formal 'claiming' would wait until his mate was grown and strong and ready). At the very least he needed to go to him, follow the link that was pulling him while the connection was strong enough for him to do so._

_But no. With a sensation much like ripping off one's fingernails one by one, Severus resolutely pushed the call to the back of his mind, surrounding it with barriers, determinedly ignoring the agony. He would not deny his mate; it would kill them both, but he would not drag him into the world of danger that he (Severus) had built for himself. So he finished the potion, bottling the product and leaving it in the enchanted chest that would later be delivered to his Lord. That done, he dragged himself back to his rooms, dropped to the floor in the center of his sitting room and wished for his mate, or death, in equal measures._

Severus blinked back to awareness, his memory/dream weighing heavily on his mind. He had kept the call barricaded in his mind for so long that he could barely tell it was there anymore, telling himself every year that next year he would find his mate, next year would be _the year_ that he would make the bond known. The normally stoic man lifted a hand at covered his eyes, surprised to find his hand wet when he pulled away. 'Tears' he thought in wonderment, 'I am crying, I haven't cried in over seventeen years.' What was he going to do? He couldn't go to his mate, the link was withered, barely pulsing with the other's presence, he would not be able to pick him from a crowd of people, even if they were in the same room together.

Severus sighed, the sound more broken than he would ever admit. Albus, right, he would have to tell Albus, perhaps the old coot would have an idea, or maybe he would offer tea and lemon drops and a sympathetic smile. Buttoning his collar and grabbing his cloak, Severus started out of his room and out of the dungeon, headed for the Headmaster's office, wishing in equal parts for his mate, or for death.

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So here is chapter two - I am eternally sorry for the horribly long wait. My only defence is that I have a number of chapters written, and will be posting once a week until I run out of chapters to post :) Please forgive me. Also, huge thanks to all who reviewed; You are all awesome! As well, much gratitude to my beta, jigginbatty, without whose hard work and incredibly fast turn-over times, this fic would cease to exist.

Thanks for reading and happy reviewing!

Steppenwolf


	3. Without You

Harry groaned and turned his head away from the light pouring in the big window that he head neglected to close the night before. Opening his eyes he reached across the bed to the side table and picked up his glasses. Putting them on he sat up, noticing that it was three o'clock in the afternoon; he had slept for nearly sixteen hours straight. Lazily he stretched he arms above his head, and gasped, wincing at the sudden jolt of pain in his ribs and wrist.

Confused he got up and walked into the bathroom attached to his room, favouring his very sore ankle, and checked to see that he had, in fact, taken a healing potion last night. Yes, there was the empty vial, seal broken and cork lying on the counter. 'Weird' he though, turning to face the mirror, perhaps he was just sore due to sleeping in the same position for over half a day.

After thoroughly brushing his teeth he decided that a shower was what he needed to rid himself of all the soreness. Once he had turned the water on, allowing it to heat before getting in, he began to undress, stopping only when he had taken everything off and caught sight of himself in the mirror. His chest was one big angry-looking bruise. The deep purple-blue hue was concentrated on a spot on his left side, where his trunk had hit him the hardest. Harry frowned, moving closer to his reflection. Something was wrong; he snatched his glasses up from where he had placed them on the vanity.

"No!" his shout was hoarse, surprising even himself at the sudden sound. 'No, no, please not this' he thought desperately. Why weren't his glamours working? He hadn't taken them off, he never, ever did. Except when he went back to the Dursley's during the summer; his uncle liked to see his marks. Maybe, maybe he hadn't put them back up last night, maybe that was it. Harry concentrated, pulling his magic in, trying to erect the shields that hid the scars littering his body. But to no avail. He couldn't do it. He couldn't use a glamour in this form. He raised an unsteady hand and traced one of the slash marks on his stomach, fingered the slivery raised skin on his shoulder, a scar from a burn branding him as MINE, and as a FREAK.

Angry tears fell unnoticed from his cheeks; he hadn't looked at these scars in so long, hadn't had to face the damage that the men had done. And that he had done himself. His gaze fell to his left forearm, crisscrossed with thin, perfectly spaced lines. No, this was not something that he could deal with, not now, not today. Harry turned from the mirror, forgetting about the odd injuries that should have healed last night, and after once again removing his glasses, he stepped into the calming hot water of the shower. Something was wrong, something in him felt broken, and it wasn't just his ribs.

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Severus stopped midstride. His ribs hurt, his head was pounding and his ankle and wrist were throbbing. But why? He had been perfectly fine not even a full two seconds ago. He rolled up his sleeve and stared down at the yellowish purple bruise spreading along his left wrist in confusion. The bruise seemed to be healing but when he rotated his wrist he could hear and feel the 'tick' of an improperly healed bone snapping into place.

Then he felt it. Misery, pure misery, was flowing through the link. Oh, it was perfect. Not that his mate was suffering, but that Severus was now suffering with him. For a moment he stood and savoured the connection, ignoring that he was standing in the middle of the corridor, staring blankly at the gargoyle that guards the Headmaster's office. Yes, this is how it's supposed to be, one mate suffers, and the other shares the pain.

Wait! Severus' head flew up, his fangs out instantly, his eyes black. His mate was in pain, because of physical injuries. Someone was physically harming his mate. The urge to run and protect had Severus dashing up the Headmaster's steps, spitting the password out as he leapt through the doorway. He swept into the office, looking more like a dark avenger than an angry vampire. He would realise later how lucky he had been that Albus had closed the shades to block out some of the sun's heat, lest he would have been burned quite terribly in his vampire form.

"Severus, my boy, what has happened?" Albus' voice was concerned and he was a bit more than surprised at seeing his Potions Master storm unannounced into his office in full vampire form.

"_Mate, mate, trouble, must save, mine_" Severus could do little more than growl a few disjointed words to his employer, even as he searched his robes for the bottle of suppressant that he had brought 'just in case'.

"Sit down, my boy, and just tell me what has happened" Albus gestured calmingly to a comfortable seat in front of his desk. Severus prowled over and sat, but just at the edge of the seat, still ready to spring into action. He located the tiny bottle and swallowed the suppressant, but only half; he didn't want the connection to disappear; it felt too right to have it open and his mate's feelings thrumming through his veins.

Albus sat quietly at his desk, watching as Severus collected himself and returned to his normal appearance. "Are you alright?" he asked gently, when all obvious vampiric features had receded.

"Yes, Albus. I am sorry about that, my instincts seem to be getting the better of me lately" Severus replied, staring intently at his hands. "I was out buying potions ingredients earlier, and realised that I had unleashed my thrall unknowingly. And then just now I felt the effects of my mate's injuries. I am unsure of what to do Albus. The connection is open, but so faint that I can no longer use it to find him." He bowed his head again, ashamed as tears once again made tracks down his face.

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Harry held back a howl of pain. It felt as though something inside him was being squished, forced back, and hacked at. He leaned against the wall of the hallway for support, catching his breath and attempting to steady himself. When the feeling abated slightly he pushed off of the wall and patiently waited for his surroundings to stop spinning and closed his eyes.

When he had gotten out of the shower this morning, err, afternoon, that is, he had been feeling better. He had put on jeans and a t-shirt and was preparing to go downstairs and find some breakfast, or lunch, when rather suddenly he felt ill. He was shivering as chills wracked his body, the pain of his injuries flared, and his head pounded, causing his stomach to heave and resulting in a few unhappy moments of dry heaving. He had sat carefully down on the floor and waited for the storm to calm, and when the worst was over he threw on a warm pullover and stepped hesitantly out his door, determined to procure a stronger healing potion for Mrs. Natly; perhaps he was getting sick.

But halfway down the hallway it had happened again, this time accompanied by the terrible ripping feeling. As soon as he was able he resumed his trek down the stairs. Luckily the Inn was mostly empty, just a few individuals reading a newspaper or playing wizard's chess in the corner. He stumbled across the room and leant heavily on the bar.

"Oh Dearie, you look a mess!" gasped Mrs. Natly, taking in his shaking form, the dark smudges beneath his eyes and the curious scarring on his neck.

"I know" Harry replied weakly. "I was just wondering if you have any stronger healing potions about that I could purchase?" the few sentences left him out of breath and grasping his ribs as his lungs heaved.

"No, I'm sorry Dear, but we don't. You really must see a Healer though, you seem quite ill" Mrs Natly started to move around the bar, ready to navigate the weak young man before her back to his room and bed.

"No, no, I'm fine really" said Harry, with as much conviction as he could manage.

"Well, let me just see you back to bed and I'll send me husband out to pick up some healing draughts, yeah?" she said kindly, taking his arm and leading him towards the stairs. Harry's world exploded in pain when she grasped his barely healed wrist, the break courtesy of one of his uncle's rages, and his vision blurred, fading to black as he hit the floor. "John!" shrieked Mrs. Natly "Fire call Poppy! And Jack, help me get poor Damon back to his room" she said, addressing her husband and son in turn.

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Albus sat deliberating. It was essential that Severus find his mate, that was clear even here in the dark, the effect that the separation was play havoc with the vampire. But the timing was less than ideal. It takes three weeks for a vampire bond to settle after consummation. The school year would begin in two. He couldn't have an over protective, aggressive, blood drinking vampire mingling with the general student body. No, that was not the solution.

"Look up Severus" he said firmly. "This is your choice, however you choose to deal with it, but I would suggest waiting. Take the suppressant, continue on as is normal. It may be that your mate just took a nasty fall. Wait until the Christmas Holidays then go and find him, when you have the time to spend on the bond" there was no question in Severus' mind that was what Albus fully expected him to do, though he could not suppress a snarl when Albus insinuated that his mate may have "just" taken a "nasty fall".

"Yes Headmaster, that does seem logical, I believe I will endeavour to do just that" he said as he smoothly stood and moved towards the door. "Good day Albus" he said, stepping onto the stairs and descending, missing the speculative look that Albus was giving him. No, he would not wait until Christmas, he could not wait. His mate needed him now! He had done enough waiting. And with that resolution he strode briskly to the apparation point on the grounds, intending to return to Diagon Alley, as that was where he first had sensed his mate's presence.

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"I don't know what the boy has told you Alice, but he is very unwell. I would move him to the Infirmary if it was safe, but any disturbance at all could be detrimental" Poppy Pomphrey told Mrs. Natly quietly, as they stood watching the weak rise and fall of Harry's chest.

"Oh, you know it's fine Poppy, I'll be here to take care of him, you know as well as I do that business is slow at the moment anyway" Mrs. Natly replied, brushing off the other woman's concerns.

"What has he told you?" inquired the Healer.

"Well, just that his name is Damon Hellsergiggle and that he's just turned seventeen not too long ago. Oh, and he's booked his room until the start of September, so I'd guess he's a student, probably at your school; the crest was on his cloak the other day" informed the shorter woman.

"Damon Hellsergiggle?" Poppy's eyebrow arched inquisitively, she had taken care of Harry Potter long enough to know his magical signature anywhere.

"What did you mean 'detrimental'?" Mrs. Natly interrupted Poppy's musing. "The boy is in a very fragile state, Alice, I fear that if he does not improve drastically he will not make it."

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* Yes, my very first real cliff-hanger. Oh my, what fun :) So that's it for now, chapter three is done. Big thanks to all the wonderful people who took the time to review and to my amazing beta, jigginbatty, for all of her hard work! I hope everyone's summer is going well, and see you all in about a week! Happy reviewing! *

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	4. Abeo Venefici

Severus Snape did not run; running was undignified and usually a pointless expenditure of energy. It went without saying that Hogwart's cool, collected Potions Mater did not _run_ anywhere when he was in the public eye. No, today, Severus was _loping_ up and down Diagon Alley. Loping was an entirely acceptable alternative to running; it was graceful and smooth and, when done properly, a much more efficient method than running. So he _loped_, his strides even and consistent as he moved into and out of shops, weaving through the crowds of Sunday evening shoppers. The notice-me-not charm he had cast on himself so strong that the few individuals that caught a glance of him as he swept by found themselves inexplicably turning abruptly and hurrying off in the opposite direction.

He had been searching for hours now, had checked in every store, around every corner, down every back-alley. And although he was frustrated, irritated at the absence of even the faintest trail to lead him to his mate, he was not tired. His breathing remained even and slow, as he did not need to breath; his still heart was not rushing to bring oxygen to his tireless muscles. He longed to let his vampire out, his instincts were screaming at him to move with the speed unique to his race, to let out his fangs and claws and rip through all those who dared to step into his path. But he didn't. He pushed down his more basic impulses, pressing them stubbornly to the back of his mind. The vial of suppressant that he drank infallibly every hour on the hour did much to assist his self-enforced control.

When the sun finally dropped below the horizon and the pastel colours of twilight stretched across the sky Severus sat down on an empty wooden bench in front of a homey looking Inn. His rather potent concealment charm kept the many other loiterers from claiming the open seats that the rest of his bench presented; in fact, it prevented them from even wandering too close, giving Severus a wide berth as they meandered by. This suited Severus perfectly. He sat on the bench, his posture rigid, hands on his knees, back flawlessly straight, and for the second time in one day, he fought back the tears that threatened to overwhelm him. He had searched for hours, looking for any trace: a scent, a glimpse, even a tingle from the bond would have served him well, but inevitably found nothing. His mate was either no longer here, or had not even been in the Alley in the first place. Severus scoffed at his folly, why had he dared to hope that he would find something today? After all these years of ignoring the call, what did he expect, that his mate would miraculously appear and welcome him with open arms? The inactivity of the link in his mind did little to improve his mood. He had no choice, without the suppressant he would not be able to control the vampire enough to be among so many people, yet because of the potion the link was clouded, the sensation deadened and numb.

The smells drifting from the open door of the Inn, The Gilded Sword, he noticed, reminded him that he had neither eaten (normal food) nor satisfied his thirst for much too long a period of time. 'The thirst will have to wait' he thought as he rose and entered the Inn. '_Preferably until I find my mate'_ his vampire added petulantly.

The inside of the establishment was cozy and warm. Severus stepped through the maze of tables and found an empty table for two pushed back against the wall in the far corner. The heat of the fire was pleasant, especially since he was always cold. He hadn't been truly _warm_ in the last three hundred years. As he considered the specials written on a chalkboard hung over the bar he discretely removed the notice-me-not; it wouldn't do to drive people out of the room simply because he had decided to dine here.

"What can I get for you today Professor?" asked a kind looking older woman from the side of his table.

"I am not yet sure, I am torn between the Shepherd's pie and the 'Sunday Roast', which would you suggest?" Severus inquired, turning his gaze to the woman. She was short and wiry, her white hair, short and curly, was slightly disheveled, and her eyes moved constantly, glancing about the room, cataloguing what needed to be done next.

"Well, the roast, if I may say so myself, is quite lovely today, and the roasted potatoes are wonderful and fresh" she replied, smiling kindly, before turning her head for a momentary look at the stairs, yet again. At Severus' quirked eyebrow she continued, "Oh, I'm sorry, I'm Alice Natly, my husband and I run this place" she gestured fondly around the room, "I cook the meals mostly myself. Personally, I'd take the roast; it's particularly tender this time."

"Then I will have the Sunday roast please, with a glass of red wine and some water as well" Severus smiled, just an upward twitch of the corners of his mouth, but he couldn't help it, this woman seemed so grandmotherly.

"Of course, that will be right out for you" Alice replied, writing down his order and whisking away to fill the water goblets of a table on the other side of the room. Severus sighed and sat back in his seat. The suppressant was wearing off and he would have to take another vial in a few minutes. But until then he closed his eyes and examined the connection, looking for any additional signs of damage or pain coming from his mate.

"Severus! You're here, Alice was right, I'm so glad." Severus' eyes flew open and he started, hearing Poppy Pomphrey's voice from behind him. "Do you have a moment? Would you come upstairs, I need your advice on something" she asked insistently, coming close to him and turning hopeful eyes to his black ones.

"Yes of course" he murmured softly, raising and following her up the staircase. The link in his mind gave a sharp twinge, reminding him that he had not yet taken his potion. As he followed Poppy down a hallway and around a corner he pulled a vial from one of his many pockets and swallowed the bitter liquid with a grimace. He really did have to find a way to make the stuff taste better. _'Well, if I had just claimed my mate all those years ago I wouldn't have to'_ his vampire reasserted itself in his mind, his instincts shifting restlessly.

A feeling of unease prickled over his skin when Poppy stopped outside a heavily warded door. The feeling increased as he examined the wards; these were not normal locking or silencing wards. These were wards used when a person could not control their own magic, or when someone was critically ill and even the slightest spell would be a danger.

He turned to Poppy, eyebrows raised in a silent question.

"I have a patient" she explained, leaning against the wall beside the door. "He's seventeen and has recently come into his creature heritage. I think that his mate has rejected him because his magic is steadily undoing all of the healing that he has had done over his life. I don't know what to do; I've never seen anything like this before." The Healer was definitely scared, her eyes wide and sad. Severus frowned. Poppy was well known for her professional detachment, for her to be so visibly shaken meant that she must care deeply about the boy in question.

"Alright, let me see him and I will try to find a potion that will ease his symptoms" Severus said, trying to reassure his colleague with his confident tone. Inside he was uncertain and puzzled. He too had never heard of such an occurrence. Poppy nodded and straightened, moving forward and taking down the wards then stepped back and ushered Severus in before her. Severus reached for the doorknob and slipped into the room with a building sense of dread. Something was terribly wrong in that room.

_'Mate! Mine mate, mine, mine! Claim, save … hurt, mate hurt…protect…mine mate'_ Severus' mind exploded with the sound of his vampire's ecstatic screams. The boy in the bed, he could only see the top of his dirty blond head peeking out from under to heavy covers, this boy was his mate. Severus slumped heavily against the wall, ignoring Poppy's whispered questions of concern. He was immensely glad that he had taken the suppressant before entering the room, otherwise he would have burst into full vampire form and claimed what was _his_ with no thought to the boy's injuries, or to the presence of the other two people in the room.

Two people. He turned his dark gaze on the other person in the room, in his mate's room; she had been alone with his mate. It was Alice. She wouldn't hurt his mate. He would kill her if she did, but she hadn't. Severus struggled through the confused fog in his mind.

"Professor?" Poppy's voice floated to his ears as though from a great distance. "Professor Snape, what is the matter?"

Snape swallowed and then swallowed again, shaking his head. "My mate, Poppy, the boy is my mate. I am having … trouble … resisting the pull" he said, even as his wildly dilating eyes turned back to the bed and he felt his hand reaching out, urging him to step closer.

"Oh, oh my, well then I guess that solves that problem" a flustered Alice stammered, "Come then Poppy, we should probably let the Professor meet his … er … _mate_ … Perhaps it would be best if you gave him the potions he needs to take tonight?" Alice's last remark had been directed to Severus and he nodded dumbly, not really listening to her, as most of his attention was directed at not jumping onto the bed and claiming what was rightfully his.

"Severus, may I see you in the hall for a moment? I won't keep you long" Poppy asked softly when Alice had left the room.

"No" spat the dark haired man. "I will not leave" he said resolutely, his canine teeth lengthening and sharpening ever so slightly. _Mate, mate, mate!_

"In the washroom, just through here then" Madam Pomphrey bravely took her life in her own hands by taking Severus' arm and forcefully propelling him into the washroom. Leaving the door open a few inches to satisfy the vampire's need to keep his mate in sight she turned and glared up into the angry face that confronted her. "The boy is seventeen" she snapped, throwing up her hand to stave off any interruption. "He is an adult in our world, so if you _claim him_ that is entirely your business." '_It certainly is'_ hissed the vampire in his mind, but Snape refrained from speaking the comment aloud. "He is broken and dying" Poppy forged on, "any activity beyond the gentlest of contact will have disastrous results. And this is not a wizard that our world can afford to loose" she concluded, frowning into Severus' dark eyes. She could see the barely contained vampire lurking in the swirling black depths and wondered, not for the first time, whether it was truly a good idea to leave the two alone.

"I will not hurt him, ever" Snape growled low in his throat at the insinuation that he might do something harmful to the other half of his soul, who was lying there on the bed. Then Poppy's last comment made it through the haze of obsession clouding Severus' brain. "Wait what do you mean 'our world can't afford to loose him'?" The Healer sighed, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and leaned back on the vanity.

"What do you know about the Abeo Venefici?" she asked tiredly.

The question caught him off guard and it took Severus a moment to search the many dusty recesses of his mind to find the information that he needed. "The Abeo Venefici are a rare form of being, who can at will, manipulate magic unlike any other being that has ever existed. They are very rare though, I think that there is only one living right now." With his concentration turned to his colleague's unusual question, Severus' appearance became more human; his fangs withdrew and his eyes lost the depth and blackness that signified the vampire's presence. "Are you saying that my mate is an Abeo Veneficus?" he asked in wonderment. There was absolutely no way that he could be bonded to something so pure, to a being so fundamentally good.

"Apparently there are two living examples of the race at the moment because yes, the boy is one. But that is not my point. The boy has altered his appearance to protect himself from something or someone. I am not sure if you will take kindly to his identity." She regarded Severus worriedly, as though expecting him to retaliate in anger. Severus frowned deeply. He could feel that something was out of place with the very still form on the bed, but had assumed that it had to do with the boy's many injuries. Turning to look closely at what little of the blond head he could see, he closed his eyes and concentrated with all of his considerable mental power on the being in front of him. He could feel the damage on the body, could tell that the boy was barely hanging onto consciousness, and then he found it. The boy's magical signature was familiar; Severus had met this boy before.

Then it came to him. Potter. Potter was lying, hardly breathing on the bed; Potter was his mate. Poppy recognized the look of comprehension on his face and stepped forward to lend her support.

"I … we … We will deal with this later" said Snape, brushing off her hand and stepping back into the room. "I will not claim him, but the longer we are apart, the worse his condition will become." He didn't really know that, but prayed that the Healer would accept his dismissal. Luckily she did, and giving him one last searching look, she nodded her consent and slipped from the room. "Call if you have need" she said, closing the door softly behind him.

Severus stood in the center of the bedroom, and after charming the window blinds securely shut, he let his vampire out, completely. The scent was marvelous. He had never smelt anything so delectable. Like love and lust, the perfect food with the perfect wine, mixed in with the smell of fresh air and a cool wind. _Mate._ Severus stepped forward, hardly making a sound. He slipped out of his outer robe and shoes, leaving his black t-shirt and trousers on, and sat carefully on the bed.

_Mate's _breath, no, _Harry's_ breath was shallow and rough, coming more in gasps than anything. Severus pressed himself closer, pulling the thick blanket down to reveal the sleeping face beneath. The face wasn't Potter… no, Harry's. But Severus could see the similarities, and running his fingertip over the now scar-free forehead, he secretly decided that he liked Harry's normal features much better. The heat of the boy's skin frightened him. He must have been running a temperature of at least 108 degrees Celsius. Severus frowned and quickly got up and slipped beneath the heavy duvet. He wrapped his arms securely around the burning form, loosing himself in the smell and the feel of his mate. It was so entirely right.

Mindful of Harry's many injuries, he pulled the boy closer, laying him over his chest, and nuzzled the top of the unruly hair. Just as the wonderful warmth of _his mate_ began to lull him to sleep, Severus placed his hand on the back of Harry's neck, and felt the steady da dum, da dum, of the boy's heartbeat as his eyes slid closed.

* So here is chapter four, I hope that you liked it. I apologise for the ridiculous wait - to make up for it I'm posting the next three chapters all together. PLease forgive my forgetfulness. Just a note, the "Abeo Venefici" (pronounced "ab–E-oh Ven-ay-fee-key") are a race of creatures of my creation. The name comes from the (brutalized - sorry to all Latin speakers) Latin words Abeo, meaning "change", and Veneficus, meaning "magic". So anyways, please drop me a review :)


	5. Waking Up

** Just a few notes for this chapter, Harry and Sev grow a bit closer in this section, but Severus' conflicting emotions may be a bit confusing. Please keep in mind that Severus is, at the same time, a vampire who needs his mate, and the snarky, principle ridden, Potions Master that we all know and love. Also conversations in [square brackets] take place between Harry and Sev through their minds. Any italic dialogue in '…' single quotation marks is Sev's vampire yelling at him. Hope you all enjoy!**

… muffled voices reached Harry's ears as he struggled to open his eyes. He was being carried; it felt so wrong. He tried to tell whoever was touching him to put him down but the pain was too intense and he drifted back into the darkness…

… "What's wrong with him Poppy?" this time Harry didn't even bother to try to open his eyes, just burrowed deeper into the blankets in a fruitless search for warmth. "Creature inheritance … the mate must be naturally cold, his temperature is so high … going to have to put him in a bath of ice … can't use any magic." Madam Pomfrey's response was disjointed, though Harry couldn't tell if it was because of the heavy down comforter he had moved to cover his ears, or because he just couldn't think straight; his head was pounding and spinning out of control. "Help" he tried to call before the black blanket of unconsciousness could claim him again. …

… "Here Harry, drink this." Fiery hot hands helped hold his head and a horrible tasting liquid was poured down his throat. He fought against the hands. Not the right person. "Don't touch" he whimpered, the strain from fighting wearing him out. "I know dear, soon, it will end soon." Pomfrey's face floated in his vision, her eyes sad and her lips pinched with worry.

"Poppy!" someone burst through the door to his room. "Professor Snape is here, perhaps he can help" the person sounded familiar but Harry couldn't turn to look to see who is was; it was so cold and his head was so heavy. "I'll be right back Harry, we'll make you better" Poppy promised as she moved for the door. "H-help, pl-please" Harry murmured although there was no one left in the room to hear him. "please."…

Harry woke up slowly, expecting pain. Yes, there was pain there, still in his head, still thrumming through his veins. But it was no longer a pain of fire and daggers of ice. This was more of an ache, a soreness caused by great strain. He knew how to deal with this ache. He'd felt it many times before, courtesy of his uncle or one of his uncle's "friends". The trick was to lie still for as long as possible, and to not open your eyes too quickly; it wouldn't do to have the room go spinning out of control. At least he was no longer freezing to death. A fever. He had had a fever; he could remember Madam Pomfrey telling him that. Well, it must be gone now because he was feeling comfortably warm now.

Harry shifted slowly, attempting to move his right arm to see the back of his hand. If his "I must not tell lies" scar was still visible he could assume that he still appeared to be Damon Hellsergiggle. Not that it mattered now, somehow Madam Pomfrey had known exactly who he was; maybe his appearance had changed while he was so ill?

His arm encountered an obstacle. Harry froze. There was something firm, yet soft, and wonderfully cool wrapped around him, pinning his arm to his side. He shifted subtly. It wasn't 'something' it was i someone /i. Someone was holding him, had enfolded Harry in his arms. Harry realized belatedly that he just i knew /i that this 'someone' was a man. A strong man if the feel of the arm was anything to go by. 'I should be panicking' though Harry lethargically. But he wasn't panicking because he felt so i right /i. "Creature inheritance … mate" the healer's voice popped into his mind. He could remember her saying something about his mate making him better.

Huh. So the person, the man, behind him was his mate. Harry couldn't help but give a small smile of relief. At least he wouldn't have to be tied to a i girl /i. That would have been cruel. Brown eyes slowly blinked open, and though he had braced himself for the shot of pain that usually would have accompanied such an action, he got none. Hmm. That was good. He could still feel his injuries. In fact, there were more now than there had been the night before. His wrist, ribs, and shoulder still hurt, but on top of that his back, both his legs and his, well … i back there /i now hurt as well. And come to think of it his right arm felt funny - like it had when Lockhart had removed the bones. Oh no. Now he could remember. Madam Pomfrey had said his old injuries, anything healed by magic, were resurfacing. His mate had to heal him; no one and nothing else would be able to.

Harry steeled himself and began to turn. Surely someone that he was destined to be with wouldn't be too angry if Harry woke him up for a healing. No one was that heartless. But before he had even turned more than a fraction of an inch the man behind him was gone. Completely. Harry heard him hit the wall on the opposite side of the room in his haste to pull away.

"It seems that we have a small dilemma Mr. Potter." The deep, smooth voice brought about a strange mix of reactions in Harry. He knew that voice. It was, at the same time, both the perfect, wonderful voice of his mate, and the voice of Professor Snape.

"No, please, please no" Harry whimpered, shifting into the recently vacated space where Snape had lain.

"Oh, do not worry Mr. Potter, you will not have to endure my presence for much longer. I will simply collect what I require and take my leave" replied the Professor, confusing Harry's moan as one of shame and regret.

Harry wrestled with the blanket; he was so cold again. Fighting against his loudly objecting injuries he pulled the material close, burrowing down until only the top of his head and his eyes showed. Unexplained tears gathered in his eyes and he struggled to explain that he needed Snape over i here /i, that it felt so i wrong /i for him to be all of the way over i there /i, not even in contact with each other. But he couldn't. Despair closed his throat and an irrational feeling of rejection made him clench his eyes tightly shut. It was surreal, what did i he /i care if Snape didn't want him. "Please" he whispered, braving the cold air of the room to reach out his left hand towards the still figure in the corner. "Please."

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Severus shivered imperceptibly. He had been so weak last night; so thirsty. And Harry's call had been so strong; the siren song and promise of warmth so compelling that there had been nothing that he could do to fight it. But as he lay there, listening to Harry's breathing ease, feeling his racing heart slow to a normal rate, he realized that he could not do this. He could not nurture the irrational hope that this i closeness /i was what the boy would want. He would not allow himself to think that they could establish a conventional bond and live a happy life together. Potter was his student, just a young boy, and a creature much too pure for the likes of a Death Eater turned spy.

So when he had felt Harry awake, and sensed his intent to discover the identity of the 'mystery figure' that had held him through the night, he had acted on his growing doubt and fairly flew across the room. "Oh, no worry Mr. Potter, you will not have to endure my presence for much longer. I will simply collect what I require and take my leave" he had replied in response to the boy's whimpering, praying that Harry wouldn't notice the tremor in his voice as he battled to mask his hurt with sarcasm. But the burrowing and the reaching hand were quickly eating away his resolve. By the time he could sense the dejection rolling off of his mate, and could hear Harry's weak pleas he found himself unconsciously inching forward. It was so cold without the warm body of his mate next to him. i 'Go to him' /i his vampire screeched in his head, i 'He is suffering because of you, because of the separation. You must touch him' /i.

Severus took three large steps towards the bed. The boy's fever was returning because he needed Severus' cool body to counteract his extremely high temperature. When the man timidly took Harry's burning hand the link between them opened once again and Harry's feelings invaded his mind in a flood of hurt and confusion. Snape couldn't repress his reaction. His nails lengthened to talons, his fangs dropped and rested against his lower lip. His mate was injured and in pain. He would fix that.

Moving slowly as to not jostle the quaking form more than necessary he slipped beneath the fluffy blanket and scooped Harry to his side.

The boy gasped, yet at the same time cuddled closer, seeking the relief that only physical contact with his mate could provide. [What?] Harry's voice filtered into Severus' mind. He could feel the confusion that his abrupt actions had caused and highly doubted that his mate was aware that he was broadcasting his thoughts.

"It's alright Potter, just take deep breaths and relax" Severus pitched his voice low and soothing, trying to alleviate some of the tension that he could feel pervading the other's mind. When Harry's form loosened and molded to his side he decided that he would have to explain their situation before trying to find a solution. "I don't suppose anyone has deemed it necessary to explain to you the effects of the creature heritage that you came into on your birthday?" His question was met was a brief shake of the unruly head that was tucked under his chin, and he could hear a few suspiciously sniffle-like intakes of breath before a whispered "No" could be heard. Severus sighed; of course not, why would anyone have warned their precious i savior /i that he might experience seemingly random and often painful changes once he reached the age of majority? That would have been too i logical /i.

Fine then, he would have to explain Harry's unique position before he even breached the topic of his own involvement. Shifting into a more comfortable position against the headboard Severus ran a hand over Harry's back in an attempt to reassure him, but stopped abruptly when the boy winced and let out a quiet whimper.

"What hurts?" the worry was clear in his voice.

"I don't know. Everything. It's like my old injuries are just reappearing." Harry replied, pulling back to show Snape his boneless right arm. "This was from second year. Madam Pomfrey said she couldn't fix it with magic … I think she said something like that at least…" his response petered off at his Professor's frown.

"Let me see" said the scowling man, taking Harry's arm in both of his hands, "What other injuries have appeared?"

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"Umm" Harry's said, trying to gather his scattered thoughts as Severus' hands continued to run gently up and down his arm. "Well, my left wrist and shoulder, both my legs, my ribs, back, and well, others that aren't so bad." There was no way that he was going to tell Snape that his ass was burning, that he could feel blood beginning to paste his sleep pants to his skin, even if he was his mate. No, that was something that he would take care of himself; he always had anyway.

"All of these wounds had been healed with magic?" Dark eyes bored into Harry's sienna ones, demanding the truth.

"Y-yes, and well, no ... umm, mostly" Harry winced. 'At least I can always depend on my amazing vocabulary' he though ruefully, not knowing that Severus could hear his thoughts just as well as his spoken comments. At the arched eyebrow and scowl from the other man Harry elaborated, "Most are, yes, but a few, like my shoulder, I think I healed by myself. Accidentally" he added, fearing a reprimand for using magic outside of school.

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"Right, it seems as though I will need to heal these for you then. Apparently the bond is asserting itself and rejecting any healing magics that did not originate from your mate." Severus studiously ignored the audible gulp that sounded from Harry's direction when he said the word "mate". The boy would just have to become accustomed to the idea that they were mates. "Lie back and try to relax. I will do the best that I can with healing spells and later I will get you whatever potions you need to deal with the rest." The Potions Master carefully slipped out from under the duvet and pushed back the blanket to allow Harry space to stretch out. He was just turning away to locate his wand when the smell hit him. Blood. Fresh blood. i 'Mate's fresh blood' /i his vampire clarified unnecessarily. Without the suppressant he had no hope of containing his reaction. Whirling, eyes black, fangs bared, he pinned the boy to the bed.

"Stay calm Potter" he ground out, feeling Harry attempt to push him off and hearing his terrified squeak. "You are bleeding and I need just a moment to reign in my instincts" he lied smoothly. There was no way that he was going to say that he needed to taste the blood, to drink it down and feel it pouring through his being. Taking slow, deep breaths Severus fought to tell himself that his i mate /i was injured, and that he needed to heal him to take away his pain. Finding that the figure beneath him had stopped struggling, the vampire calmed considerably. i Heal /i, right he needed to heal Harry, make him comfortable and safe, just as any good mate would. Severus breathed a sigh of relief as he felt his fangs begin to withdraw, the screaming in his ears to claim his mate here and now fading to a soft whisper that could be ignored. He sat back up, releasing the wrists that he had been aware of grabbing, and winced guiltily at the look of pain on the boy's face as he clutched his left hand to his chest.

Sniffing delicately, Snape rose and walked across the room to where his wand lay, forgotten the night before, on the floor. The blood smelt so good, so vibrant and full of life. Sniffing again as he returned to the bed he frowned. Harry had turned to lie obediently on his back, his head on a pillow and his arms at his sides. He watched Snape wearily as the man took in the small patch of red that stained the under sheet where Harry had been lying moments ago. That was odd. The boy had said that his back hurt. Perhaps he had been cut on his back and the wound had reopened? But no, the blood was to far down. Harry was bleeding from an injury below his back … bleeding from his backside.

Severus growled; the sound starting low within his chest and reverberating out to fill the room with a deep rumbling. If that blood was coming from where he thought it was coming from someone was going to die a horribly painful death. Ignoring the suddenly fearful brown eyes that were searching his face anxiously he sat lightly on the edge of the bed and took Harry's oddly boneless hand in both of his own.

"What other injuries do you have Harry?"

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No. I will not answer. He can't make me say it out loud. Harry shifted his gaze, focusing on a point just above Snape's head. Plus, he can see the blood anyway so it's not like he doesn't know where it's probably coming from. But despite how hard he tried to formulate a response, a lie, any lie at all to appease the man before him, Harry could not. He couldn't make himself lie.

"It-it's just an old thing. I got hurt a while ago. It's okay, if you heal the other stuff, this'll take care of itself" Harry stuttered, turning his head away and staring intently at his hands.

[No] a voice suspiciously like Snape's sounded in his head. [That is not acceptable. I cannot leave an open wound susceptible to infection. Tell why you are bleeding.] Harry winced. The voice was angry, and a quick glance up at his professor's face told him that, despite the gentle stroking of his hand, the man was barely concealing his rage.

[I had a bad experience] he thought, concentrating on reaching his "mate's" mind. A brief feeling of impatience filtered into Harry's consciousness. [Look, i someone /i hurt me once and I pretty much healed it myself, so if you'd just deal with the rest of it, I can take care of that] he replied in what he hoped was a firm, decided tone.

"I will not" said Severus, catching Harry by surprise by suddenly speaking aloud. Standing and brandishing his wand in a large, sweeping motion over Harry's whole body, Severus recited a few potent healing charms under his breath. Then, as a precaution, he performed a scan of the slight body before him. Frowning darkly at the number of broken or fractured bones that the scan turned up, he made a mental note to procure at least three measures of Skele-grow as soon as possible. "Now turn over, and let me heal your i other /i injury" the glowering man ordered, his tone harsh from anger.

The relief that had accompanied Severus' healing quickly vanished. Harry sat up, noticing that his right arm was still annoyingly floppy. "No, I mean it. Please. Can you just listen to me this once?" He knew he sounded like he was begging, and as much as he hated it, he would resort to anything if Snape would just let the issue drop.

The look on Severus' face told him that he wasn't going to get his wish, and heaving a sigh of supposed defeat he said "Alright, just let me use the loo first." Without waiting for an answer he stood and slipped by the dubious looking man before him and padded as calmly as possible into the washroom before shutting and locking the door. Sinking to the floor in relief, Harry cast the strongest locking ward he could on without his wand, and shifted to rest his back against the wooden door. 'Just for now, please, please, keep him out' he thought letting his head fall back with a thump.

Mate or no mate, Harry had spent six years listening to Snape tell him that he was stupid, an impertinent brat; practically telling him that he was worthless. The man had exploited his every weakness day after day, humiliating him at every chance. There was no way that Harry was just going to up and forgive him, even if some of the cruelty had been deserved. He was not going to lie down and let the one man who despised him the most, second only to Voldemort perhaps, see what he had let his uncle do to him. He would rather stay in this room forever.

Thanks for reading, and a heartfelt thank you to all the wonderful people who have taken the time to review thus far. Also cheers and appreciation to my beta - jigginbatty - for all of her time and effort. :)


	6. Someone who can Help

Severus knew that the boy was lying when he had claimed that he would allow Severus to heal him after his impromptu visit to the loo, but could not prevent him from leaving as he could feel that the boy truly needed to go. To retain him would have been unnecessarily cruel. But when the door closed he felt the rush of his mate's power he knew that he had made a grave mistake.

"Open the door please," he asked with a forced calm, stepping over to the door and pressing his hands flat on the cool surface. There was more than a locking ward on the door. There was a power there that seemed to set its very will against anyone or thing that might try to enter. Harry was using his powers as an Abeo Veneficus, and whether knowingly or unknowingly, he had made it impossible to anyone to get into that room unless Harry expressly permitted them entrance. Severus could feel his muscles tensing, his vampiric traits making their hundredth (or so it seemed) appearance since he had entered the bedroom the night before.

"Please, Harry, open the door," he asked again, a tremor of panic escaping into his voice when he realized that, not only was the door keeping him out physically, it was also blocking his mental connection with his mate. "Please," he almost begged, scratching at the door in a manner very similar to a dog desperate to enter a house. He might as well have been talking to himself; there was absolutely no response to his pleas.

With one last feeble pound on the door Severus jumped up and summoned his wand to his hand. Bursting from the room he stepped quickly down the hallway and descended the stairs. Thankfully it was mid-morning, so there were not many guests in the large dining area of the inn. The few that were sitting enjoying a hearty brunch glanced up at him with little interest; it was no concern of theirs if Severus Snape, Hogwarts' potions professor, swept down the stairs in his customary manner. One pair of eyes, however, did not leave him as he moved across the wood floor towards the bar.

"Professor, what's wrong? We weren't expecting you out of that room for days yet, and where is young Damon?" asked a very worried looking Alice.

"_Damon_ has seen it fit to separate himself from me. The separation, however, will prove detrimental to his health if we are out of contact for a prolonged period of time," Severus told her tersely, his voice pitched low as to prevent unwanted eavesdropping. "Has Madam Promfrey returned to Hogwarts?"

"She did," replied Alice, eyes wide as she processed the danger that Harry had put himself in. "The poor dear was so tired after her night with Damon that she left right after she made sure that the wards would keep other people's magic out of his room."

"Damn," Snape cursed under his breath. "I will need to use your floo to contact her then; I am not in the habit of carrying floo powder about everywhere I go."

"Of course, just follow me," said Alice over her shoulder as she moved into the kitchen and through to what looked like a private sitting room. Moments later Severus found himself standing among glowing green flames, with his head hanging out of Dumbledore's fireplace. As the school's fireplaces were considered private connections, and so could only be accessed by a few select networks, he would have to go through the Headmaster to find the Medi-witch.

"Severus, my boy, where in the world have you been?" asked Albus before Severus had even managed to call out for him.

"Headmaster, I am afraid I do not have the time to explain. I have found my mate and now have an emergency on my hands. Could you please contact Poppy, and follow through to the Gilded Sword?" Severus wished fervently that just once Albus would do as he was asked and not stop to ask questions. The dark haired man sighed in relief when his employer nodded quickly and stood, moving closer to the fireplace.

"We will be there in a moment, disconnect from your end so I call collect Poppy."

A few scant minutes later a tense Severus was leading Albus, Poppy, and Alice up the stairs and into Harry's room. As he had feared, the door to the lavatory was still firmly shut and glowing slightly with the power it now housed.

"Severus, where is your mate?" inquired Dumbledore, his blue eyes taking in the ruffled, bloodied bed sheets, and the closed door.

"He has seen fit to lock himself in the washroom, and has warded me out. Completely." Severus could not help himself, in the need to be close to his new-found mate he walked over to the barrier and pressed his back against the gently pulsing wood. At Poppy's worried gasp and Albus' confused expression he realized that he would have to explain more fully.

_Mate, mate, mine mate, blood, so cold, mate…_ whined his vampire self pitifully, shifting restlessly in his mind. Pinching the bridge of his nose in an effort to stave off the impending headache, Severus took a calming breath and continued. "I know this may sound abrupt but we do not have time for me to sit and tell you each small detail. Here is what you need to know: Harry Potter is my mate, he is also an Abeo Veneficus, who has locked himself away where I cannot touch him. After seeing how quickly his situation worsened before I arrived last night, it appears that he has little more than three hours before the separation kills him."

The reactions that followed his crass synopsis of the situation did not surprise Severus and he watched unmoved as Albus lost the merry twinkle in his eyes, and paled so quickly that he swayed from the sudden rush of blood away from his brain. Poppy's response was also predictable; her professionalism took over and Severus' pronouncement was met with a quick tightening of her lips and a barely audible gasp. Alice, unlike the other two, was unable to contain her shock.

"H-har-harry P-potter," she mumbled as she sank to the ground, sitting with a thump and gazing dazedly at the shut door. "Oh dear, oh dear."

Poppy, seeing her distress crouched down in front of the shaking woman and handed her a calming draught which she brought out from one of her numerous pockets. The healer then offered one to Severus, which he declined with a sharp shake of his head, and placed a vial in Albus' slack grip.

"Abeo Veneficus?" repeated the Headmaster in a flustered, breathy whisper. "No, no, it can't be, he would have shown signs. The Abeo race is tall and strong. He can't be…" he mumbled under his breath.

"He definitely is!" snapped Severus sharply. He wouldn't tolerate any insinuation that he didn't at least know what race his mate was of.

Albus eyes flew to Severus' and he held his gaze. With a smile he said, "Well then, I guess we have no choice but to wait. If the boy has spelled the door shut no one is going to get in."

_Lie! Bloody old coot. Mate, mate, please, mate, mine. In. In. IN!_ screamed Snape's vampire, shattering his already precarious control. With a snarl Severus slammed his fist down on the door, and shouted, "No! You have not listened to what I am trying to tell you. Harry will die! He will not let me in, so he will not receive the physical contact that he needs to sustain him. There has to be a way to get this door open!"

"Severus, calm down. We all know that this is hard for you. Here, breathe," said Poppy soothingly, handing him Harry's Hogwarts cloak, which she had taken from where it had hung off the back of a chair. Severus glared at her, then at Albus, and brought the cloak up to his face. Ignoring the brief embarrassment at such an open display of weakness, he nuzzled his face into the fabric and breathed in deeply, smelling Harry's scent. In the rational part of his mind he knew that his mate was right there, just beyond the door, but his vampire persisted to scream for Harry to be near. He inhaled and sighed, feeling a calm wash over him as fangs that he didn't know had descended, withdrew at the exquisite smell.

"There is one person who could get into that room," Poppy stated calmly when Severus emerged from behind his new comfort-cloak.

"No, she's not…" began Albus, before the dark glare that Severus sent him silenced his objection.

"She's the only other known Abeo Venefica living right now. She could get through young Mr. Potter's wards easily," finished the slightly annoyed looking woman.

"Where do I find her?" Severus could barely contain the urgency that he felt. Someone could help him get to Harry. Someone could open that goddamned door.

"No one knows" said Dumbledore, a small smirk on his lips, "she hasn't been seen in over fifty years."

"Aerialnaen Coamelnonin will come when she hears of Harry's need," stated Poppy with confidence. At Severus' raised eyebrow she continued, "Her name translates to Lady of the Earth; she is perhaps the most powerful being alive. It is said that when an innocent being is in dire need, then she will come to their aid."

"So we wait for a mystical, all knowing _being_ to show up and suddenly everything will be alright?!" Severus bypassed anger and jumped straight to rage. His _Mate_ was in that room, likely suffering, and Poppy's best suggestion was to sit like simpletons and wait for the solution to come to them. No!

Severus whirled, growled low in his throat, and began tearing at the door; his vampiric traits bursting to the surface as he clawed at the door with inhuman strength and speed. But his efforts were in vain; for every splinter of wood that he wrenched from the door, another materialized in its place.

"I said no such thing Severus Snape. I appreciate that this is difficult for you, however, if you continue to bite my head off every time I speak, I will take it as an indication that my presence is no longer needed here!" The irritated witch snapped back, glaring at Severus darkly. "If you had allowed me to continue, you would have learned that it so happens that I served my apprenticeship under Lady Aerilnaen, and have been close friends with her since then. I have a means of contacting her when I need to." Still glaring she pulled a thin silver necklace out from under her Healer's robes and touched the pale blue crystal adorning the chain to her forehead. With her eyes closed in concentration she murmured, "My Lady, if you will, I am in dire need of your help." The crystal pulsed and glowed a deep royal blue and Poppy tucked it back beneath her robes. "She is coming," she stated contentedly.

Severus twitched and fidgeted impatiently for a moment before once again grasping Harry's cloak and breathing in deeply the heavenly scent of his mate. "How long?" he asked, once he had sufficiently calmed. Belatedly he noticed that although he was no longer driven by the mad need to break down the door, he was still in his vampire form. It was a good thing that he had spelled the windows dark the night before; else the sunlight of midday would have wreaked havock on his skin.

"Right now," said a melodic voice, as a heavily cloaked figure stepped through the door to Harry's room. With a start Severus realized that the door had been heavily warded; indeed it still was. This woman had passed right through both his and Poppy's wards as if they were not there.

"Aerial!" exclaimed Poppy, moving across the room and embracing the newcomer. "It has been far too long. Here, allow me to take your cloak."

"Poppy," the stranger sighed happily, "you're right, it has been far too long. Forgive me; I've been busy these past few years. These Muggles seem to be set on tearing down the entire rainforest." As she spoke, Aerial swept off her cloak and, handing it to Poppy, turned to face the others in the room. Even in his blurry state Severus could barely contain a gasp at the sheer beauty of the woman before him. Her long deep brown hair fell in ringlets past her shoulder, and even in the dim light of the room he could see her hair was not merely a deep brown, but a mixture of dark browns, auburn, black and lighter brown combined. She was strikingly tall, well over six feet, and was slender and lithe. She was wearing a simple garb of forest green leggings, laced up the sides and a matching tunic, with a plain cream shirt beneath the tunic. Although plain, it was obvious that the clothes were very well made and were of a fine material. Detailed embroidery swirled in a vine-like pattern up her sleeves and twisted in intricate designed on her tunic, and on her feet she wore a pair of boots that seemed to be molded to fit her feet and legs perfectly. Her features were delicate, high cheekbones, soft pink lips, and a perfect nose adorned her face. Her pointed ears confirmed to him that she was more than just an Abeo Venefica.

Laughter like the chiming of quiet bells sounded out across the room and Severus found his eyes being drawn to meet her cheerful gaze. "You are right, Professor, I am a mix of a great many things," Aerial told him. Her eyes were by far her most unique characteristic, as they did not remain one colour, but fluctuated, seeming to follow some unknown pattern. As Severus watched, entranced, they slipped from piercing crystal blue, to a deep royal blue, to a dark navy that was nearly black.

"My eye colour follows my emotions," she informed him, picking up on his fascination. The vampire quirked an eyebrow at her intuitive response. "The Abeo Venefici and Elvin blood that make up but part of what I am allow me to see into your mind." At the dark scowl that flashed upon the potions Master's face she continued, "Not to worry; I only abuse the ability when it is deserved."

Severus shuddered; he would not want to make an enemy of the ethereal figure before him. The very air in the room sang of her power.

"Aerial, this is Alice Natly, the owner of this fine establishment; Albus Dumbledore, whom I believe you have met before; and this, "she gestured to the dark hair man still standing vigil by the washroom door, "is Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts." Alice bowed low after the introduction, mumbled a quick pardon excusing herself to see to her other neglected guests, and slipped out of the room. Albus inclined his head politely and moved to grasp the hand that was offered to him.

"Headmaster, I am glad to see that you are well," Aerial said warmly and smiled, though Severus noted with some interest that her eyes flickered from royal blue to a purple-ringed indigo.

"And the same to you my Lady," replied Dumbledore, releasing her hand and stepping back. "We are fortunate that you were able to come so quickly."

"Yes, well, where there is a need, right Headmaster?" the woman responded, pinning Dumbledore with her unwavering gaze, then turning her attention to Severus, and beyond, to the door that he stood protectively in front of. "Thank you for taking the time to come ensure the safety of your Professor," she said over her shoulder to Albus. "Now I believe that there is work that must be done here, so if you will excuse us I believe that Mrs. Natly has just removed a tray of rather delicious looking shortbread cookies from the oven, if you would like to join her downstairs?" The statement was stated as a question, but everyone in the room heard the unspoken order belying her words.

"Yes, I believe I will. Thank you" replied Albus after a few terse moments of silence, during which Aerial had turned back around and was contemplating the closed wooden door. After the Headmaster made his exit she looked up at Poppy.

"Harry Potter?" she asked, nodding her head in the direction of the lavatory.

"Yes, poor dear," replied Poppy. "He has come into his inheritance and is not taking it as well as you had hoped."

Severus' head snapped up and he once again turned the full force of his fierce patented Potions Master glower on his colleague. "You knew?" he snarled. "You both knew and yet did nothing to prepare him!" he said loudly, not daring to include his new acquaintance in his torrent of accusation.

"Yes," broke in Aerial, stepping forward and placing her hand on Severus' arm. Immediately Severus felt calm, completely calm. As though through a thick haze he realized that he had returned to his human appearance. "I am sorry for the suffering that your mate and, through him, you have had to endure. I had been prohibited from interfering. Luckily though, I can no more ignore a direct plea for help, than I can allow an innocent to suffer needless additional pain."

Nodding in acceptance, and blinking rapidly to clear his mind he said, "Young Mr. Potter and I have had a less that cordial relationship in the past and I fear that he is unable to look beyond past actions to allow himself to recognize his need to be with his mate."

Aerial cocked her head. "But that is not all," she hummed softly. "No, there is something else. You should know Professor, that if you do not tell me the truth, all of the truth, there is nothing that can stop me from taking it from your mind myself." It was not a threat, merely a statement of fact.

Severus warred with himself silently for a moment. On one hand he loathed being held powerless by those around him, and being forced to admit his mistakes, but on the other, he knew that she was telling the truth, and that if she needed to know everything in order to help Harry, then he would have to tell her. "I first felt the pull to Harry when he was born," he admitted reluctantly. "It was an urge to find and protect, not to claim him," he added defensively, throwing up his hands to stave off their expected reactions. But none came.

"My mate was a vampire," said Aerial comfortingly, "I know all there is to know about the ways of your kind."

Reassured Severus continued, "Because of my _situation_ I did not think that it was wise to endanger my mate by making our connection known at the time, so I created a suppressant potion, which I have been taking these last seventeen years."

"You were afraid." Aerial's distinctive eyes turned a golden amber, indicating the first beginnings of her anger. "You were afraid as much for yourself as you were for him, so you took the cowardly way out."

Severus balked at her accusation, but then nodded and lowered his head is defeat. "Yes."

"What you have done has hurt both of you Severus, but it has hurt Harry the most. To deny an Abeo bond is akin to rejecting it. Rejection by one's mate causes death. There is no comparison to the pain that is caused by the rejection of one's mate. It seems there is more for me to fix here then a locked door, hmm?" The woman moved closer to Severus and in a fluid motion cupped his chin in her palm. "Come; let us bring him back to you." Her gaze had softened, and as Severus looked timidly into her slightly cat-like eyes, they transferred from an amber of annoyance to a soft caring green.

"Poppy," said Aerial, turning to face her waiting friend, "could you please bring as many healing, fever reducing, and restorative potions as you can find that Severus himself has brewed?"

Nodding, Poppy turned to the fireplace on the wall and after lighting it with a quick spell, threw in a measure of Floo powder and, stepping through, said clearly "Hogwarts' Infirmary."

Once the Healer had gone, Severus found himself being lead by the hand towards the door. Seeing Aerial lift her hand and place it flat against the wood he whispered, "He's locked me out. There's nothing that can get through that powerful a ward." He glanced away as his voice caught in his throat, a single tear sliding down his cheek.

The tear was brushed away tenderly by a smooth, cool fingertip. "There is no power greater than mine," Aerial told him, and he watched in amazement as she pushed on the door and it swung open at her touch. Following her through, the first thing that he saw was Harry, lying in a tub of steaming red water, wrapped in similarly tinged towels.

"Harry!" he sobbed, dropping Aerial's hand and lurching forward, plunging his arms into the scalding water and gathering the soaked, alarmingly still body to his chest. "Harry, oh please, please love, wake up."

________________________________________________________________________

** Please don't hate me! What good is it to end a chapter if not with a cliffhanger? First off, thank you to all who have reviewed my story thus far; your reviews are the highlight of my day. And a big, huge thank you to my beta jiggnbatty for all of your help! What would I do without you? Next, a few explanations:

Aerialnaen Coamelnonin – pronounced "Air–ree–al–nAy–en Coh-MEL-non-nin", means "Lady of the Earth". She is a creature of my creation, though her name, and many of her characteristics, stem from Tolkien-verse Elves and their characteristics. Her last name is a derivative of the Tolkien Elvish word for "My love". Her story will be clarified as the plot progresses. As of right now, what is essential to know is that she is the most powerful being alive, and is not under the command of any other being.

Also, in the next chapter it will be explained why Harry is in the state that he is in. Do not worry; this is not a death fic :)

Thank you for reading! Please review, it truly does make my day!!


	7. This new Closeness

Harry didn't realize at first just how long he had spent leaning against the washroom door. One minute he was asking the wood to keep Snape out, and the next he was waking up, freezing cold, and curled up in a ball on the hard floor. He shivered, stretched and winced when he saw the smears of red on the white ceramic tiles. 'Great, just great,' he thought when he caught sight of his still boneless right hand. Across his hand in open, raw letters was the phrase 'I must not tell lies'. It seemed as though all of his injuries were going to reassert themselves.

'I should have had Snape heal the other stuff before coming in here, stubborn bloody bastard,' he thought vehemently. Standing up and moving towards the small closet in the corner of the room Harry groaned loudly. Yepp; there were definitely new broken bones that had shown up as he slept. Limping heavily he tottered over to the closet and pulled out a pile of fluffy towels that were almost as long as he was tall. Wrapping one securely around his shaking frame he tossed the other two into the bathtub. After plugging the drain and setting the bath to fill with steaming hot water he gingerly removed his clothing, careful to prevent his shirt from dragging over his throbbing back.

'Why is it,' he wondered, 'that I feel so bloody cold all the time, and clinging to a frozen vampire makes me feel warm?' When the bath was full he gently stepped in, ignoring his body's protests when the hot water lapped over his many cuts. Lying back he draped the now sodden towels over himself in an attempt to garner even more warmth.

Lying in his bath Harry soon began to drift. His mind slowed and his thoughts became hazy and unfocused. The one clear idea in his mind was that he had to open the door, had to get to his mate. But Harry resolutely ignored that part of his mind, pushing it back to the furthest recesses of his consciousness. After a period of time, he wasn't sure how long, the water began to feel cool and uncomfortable against his skin so he used his toe to prod the hot water tap on and lift the plug to let a bit of the old bathwater out. Feeling the heat begin to diffuse throughout the bath, Harry smiled.

"Well, maybe I can just take a hot bath every time I get too cold," he said to the ceiling. What he didn't notice was that the water that he was sitting in was turning his skin an angry red and was steaming far too much to be healthy.

… Harry drifted … he dozed … He woke occasionally to let more hot water into the bath, then fell back asleep …

Suddenly he came awake. The water was like ice, and no amount of new hot water was making it any better. He felt so _wrong_. He needed to get to the door; he had to find Sev, had to hold him. But the towels that had once been a comforting underwater blanket became a leaden restraint, and he could not lift himself from the bath.

"Help!" he tried calling out, but of course no one answered. No one could get in, because … because … he couldn't remember why! He was all alone, freezing to death and no one was going to come save him. Silent tears slipped down his face, the salty water mixing with the steaming pool that he rested in. Too tired to fight anymore Harry stilled and allowed the darkness to swallow him.

"Harry, oh please, please love, wake up." A voice penetrated the black fog that Harry had been swimming through. Wake up? He was awake; why would he have to wake up? It slowly occurred to Harry that one did not swim leisurely through swirling black mist in the waking world. And the voice, the perfect, wonderful voice; it sounded panicked and so sad. Harry didn't want the beautiful voice to be scared, so he concentrated on waking up, on moving, on opening his eyes. It was harder than it should have been, harder than it had ever been before.

"Mmeh," he said, proud of himself for even making a sound.

Ouch. Waking up might not have been the best idea. Every inch of his body hurt as though he had just walked through a wall of flame. But there was something cool wrapped around him. Someone that felt so good against his skin was holding him. Harry sighed and gave up his fight with unconsciousness. Snuggling closer to the person that felt so _right_ he fell back asleep.

When he woke the second time he knew immediately that he was awake. There was no hazy mist, no pulling himself through the fog of a clouded brain. This time he came awake suddenly, and couldn't help but call out from the pain.

"Hush love, I know," came Snape's voice from next to his ear. "I've been healing you the best I can, but healing spells can only achieve so much. I am aware that it will make you uncomfortable but I need to give you some potions and apply a salve to your burns."

Harry opened one bleary eye and then the other. "Burns?" he repeated.

"The water you were lying in was nearly boiling," replied Severus tightly. Harry could tell that he was upset, though whether by the damage that the heat had done to Harry himself, or at his brash stupidity at locking Severus out of the washroom, Harry wasn't sure. He turned his head more fully and peered into deep black eyes. Then, without thinking, he leaned forward and pressed his cheek against the smooth, cool one before him. He felt Severus stiffen and began to pull back, but was stopped when a strong pair of arms wrapped ever so gently around him and stayed his movement.

"How bad are the burns?" Harry asked Severus' ear.

Again his answer was tight, filled with barely concealed anger. "Bad. Nearly every inch of your skin has been affected, with the exception of your head, which thankfully, you managed to keep above water."

Harry blushed and shifted even closer to the man next to him. Following Harry's timid lead, Severus lay back and allowed Harry to lay draped across his chest. His naked chest, Harry realized with a start.

"Umm, why … I mean, you and I, huh. What happened to my clothes? And well, err, yours?" Harry blushed crimson.

"Move against the blanket," instructed Severus, and Harry complied, though he was confused by the order.

"Ouch!" Harry whimpered as the raw skin on his back chafed against the rough blanket.

"My body is naturally cold, so contact with my skin does little to aggravate your skin, also direct skin on skin contact is allowing our bond to settle and the transfer of energy is working to heal what I cannot with magic." Severus lifted his head and regarded his still flushed mate. "Do not worry Mr. Potter, you will find that your modesty has not been impeached upon; we are merely shirtless, not entirely nude," he drawled.

"Don't," said Harry shortly. When he felt the older man's head tilt to the side he continued, "Don't call me Mr. Potter, at least not right now, it makes me feel like you're about to give me a detention for ruining a potion." He kept his head lying on the cool chest beneath him and resolutely did not meet his mate's piercing gaze.

"If it bothers you so, then I will refrain. I am sorry … Harry, I realize that this _closeness_ will take time for both of us to adjust to." Harry closed his eyes, and felt one tear slide its way across his temple and drop onto the skin below his head. He didn't know why, but when Severus referred to their potential bond as "closeness" it made his heart break.

"Severus," a clear voice floated reproachfully from the far corner of the room. "What have I told you of misinterpreted rejection?"

Harry started and quickly sat up, searching out the source of the melodic voice. There in the corner, in a large fluffy armchair facing the fireplace, was the most beautiful woman the he had ever seen. Even Fleur, with all of her Veela charms, paled dismally in comparison.

"Wh-who, umm, hello," he stuttered as he feebly pulled the blanket up to his chin, making sure that he was completely covered.

"I am Aerialnaen Coamelnonin, though some call me Lady of the Earth. I am the only other Abeo Venefici currently walking this earth. You gave us all quite a scare there Harry, so I will be staying nearby for a time to help ease you into your new situation." Aerial inclined her head, but did not rise to approach the bed, sensing Harry's nervousness. "What Severus meant to say was that your new _relationship_ will take time for the two of you to adjust to."

Harry turned wide eyes to Severus and searched his face for any disagreement at the strange woman's declaration. What he was not expecting was for the man to reach out and cup the back of his head, stroking his neck tenderly.

"I am finding myself a bit out of my depth here," Severus whispered softly, "she is right, I apologise for the slip of my tongue."

"Of course I'm right," Aerial snorted delicately. "I took the thought out of your own mind." She smiled widely at Harry's expression of disbelief. "You will find, Mr. Potter, that there are a great number of abilities that come with being an Abeo Veneficus. Once you learn how to use and control them, there is so much fun to be had."

"I'll be able to read people's minds?" asked the dazed boy from the bed.

"Among a great many other things," replied Aerial. "But I will teach you about all of that once you have settled your bond with your mate, that way your magic will be much more stable and easier to work with." After Harry's slight nod, she stood gracefully and moved towards the door. "Now that you have awoken, I am going to go find myself a bowl of the soup that Alice has just finished making. I have taken the room next to yours, so if you are in need of my assistance, simply knock on the wall. Although I will undoubtedly feel any disturbance before you call," she said, locking her indigo gaze with Severus' obsidian one. Then with a soft click of the door, she was gone.

"Her eyes …" said Harry, turning his face back to Severus. The older man smirked and chuckled.

"An all powerful, mystical being tells you that she will be teaching you as our bond grows, and all that you have to ask about is her eye colour." Harry blushed and looked down at the bedspread. "Apparently, it changes with her emotions. From what I have observed blue and deep purple hues signify happiness or contentment and amber indicates anger or annoyance; beyond that I am not sure," supplied Severus, ignoring Harry's bashful "Oh".

Harry nodded his understanding and then settled back down against his pillow. He hissed out a breath; he had forgotten about his abused skin.

"Here," his mate shifted and stood up from the bed, "come this way so that I can heal that for you." Harry obediently scooted over into the space that the other man had just vacated. As Severus moved into the washroom to gather the needed potion and salve, Harry lay on his back and closed his eyes.

A rush of cold air breezed over his flesh when Severus reappeared suddenly and drew back the sheet. He felt his cheeks heating as the black gaze looked over his torso appraisingly.

"I need you to remove the rest of your clothing," stated the Potions Master, squeezing a large amount of fresh smelling cream into his hand.

'No! Not now; why can't I just do it myself?' Harry's mind was filled with protests and he began to sit up, already eyeing the washroom.

'Relax Harry,' Severus' soothing velvet voice sounded in his head. 'To heal the other injuries that you were suffering from, I have already seen all there is to see.' Feeling the boy's mounting panic the professor continued, 'Do not doubt that we will talk about that later, but we will wait until you are ready to confront the issue. But for now, please trust me. I cannot do anything to purposefully hurt you with hurting my own soul. Your burns must be attended to, and you cannot do this yourself, because as your mate, I must tend to all of your ills until the bond is settled.'

Harry's cheeks bloomed crimson, but he hesitantly nodded his consent, raising his hips off of the mattress and stripping off his pants and shorts. Then, with his eyes smashed tightly shut, he lay back and waited.

An odd feeling began in his chest as Severus tenderly applied the salve to the angry red streak marring the perfect, pale skin of Harry's upper body. He frowned. It felt like his chest was constricting – but not in a bad way. It was like the tightness that you feel when you're excited or when exerting harsh control. With a start Harry realized what the source of the feeling was. Severus was aroused. Painfully so. But he was holding it in check; Harry probed gently across the link that they shared. When his mind connected with his mate's the feelings and images overwhelmed him and he could not suppress his gasp at the depth of feeling that came pouring into his mind.

_Mate, mate, make mate feel good. Protect. Heal. Mine. Mine. Little one; mate!_ Severus studiously ignored the happy chorus that his vampire was crowing in his head. He could tell that Harry was frightened. What bothered him was that he was not frightened of the potential pain of a healing; rather, he feared that Severus would take advantage of his helpless state. Severus and his vampire snarled as one. Whoever had hurt _his_ Harry was going to die a slow, painful death.

Severus tried; he really did. He closed the bond as much as possible without alerting Harry to the change. He tried to filter the feelings and images that sprang to his mind into a more appropriate realm. But it was to no avail. The effect that running his hands over his mate's smooth, perfectly pliant skin had Severus cursing himself for not taking a moment to find his robes. His trousers did nothing to hide his, growing, problem.

He felt immediately when Harry pushed through the mock barrier between them and heard the boy's startled gasp. He froze and withdrew his hands until they were hovering about a foot over the boy's delicious, Quidditch-toned chest.

"I apologize, Harry. I can no more control my reaction to you than a wolf can deny the need to hunt. Please believe that, in this area, as in all others of our relationship, I will defer to your pace of choice." Startled brown eyes pinned Severus to the spot, hypnotizing him with the swirl of emotion in their depths. The boy nodded and closed his eyes again.

"Mind open," he said.

And Severus replied with a shaky, "As you wish."

"So that I know what's coming," the boy's voice shook as well. Comprehension dawned in Severus' mind and he proceeded with his task, clearly thinking about each motion before his moved. But the boy was, confused? As Severus moved down the bed and pick up one of Harry's blistered feet, his feet had been most directly under the assault of the hot water and so had sustained the worst damage, he tentatively explored his mate's mind for the source of the confusion. When he found it, he almost wished that he could drop what he was doing and kill Harry's family. Harry wasn't confused because of his emotions, or even because of Severus' own reaction to the sight of Harry's nude form. Rather, he was puzzled as to _why_ Severus was turned on by his body. It was as if the boy simply didn't understand.

"Harry," said Severus, the words pushed out from between clenched teeth, "do you think that you could return to your normal appearance?" He was trying to distract Harry from the violent thoughts swirling in his mind and he sighed in relief when he felt his mate's mind turn introspective, and Harry squinted in concentration. A moment later beautiful, wide emerald eyes found Severus' gaze and he watched as Harry lifted his hand and traced the lightening bolt scar on his forehead then ran has hand through permanently tousled black hair.

"Better?" asked the brat with an almost cheeky smile.

"Infinitely," replied Severus, before he could stop himself. Harry flashed a blinding smile and the potions Mater found himself forgiving his embarrassment, as long as Harry would keep smiling at him like that. Severus' vampire purred. His mate was happy, healthier than he had been for the last two days, and was back to his gorgeous self. Today was going to be a good day.

Harry giggled, but stifled the sound at the older man's rapid blush. Apparently Severus had been unaware that Harry could hear even his vampire's thoughts.

Severus smiled through his mortification. Whatever made his mate happy, he could live with… he hoped. He held his breath, and then thought very clearly about his next move. Then he deftly poured more salve into his hand and gently rubbed it onto Harry's hardening cock. He could feel the boy's arousal, and trepidation. He could feel his vampire compelling him to do more than just apply the cream; the bond screaming for him to take and claim and make Harry feel good. But he didn't. Harry would set the pace of this part of their relationship. If it took years for the boy to allow him to even see his body again, then so it would be.

"Turn over," his voice was gravelly and rough with the amount of emotion flowing through his mind.

Harry complied immediately, and his near-silent, "thank you," was almost lost in the rustle of the bed sheets as he turned.

Severus smiled; a wide, bright smile that practically shouted his happiness. "You are welcome," he whispered just as softly and he smoothed the cool cream down the honeyed planes of Harry's back. Yes, today would be a very good day.


	8. Where is Harry?

The morning had progressed pleasantly for Harry after his initial _healing_ experience. After Snape had finished and Harry had hastily got dressed they sat down to a wonderful breakfast, which the older man had ordered from a house elf in the Inn's employ. For Severus there had been scones, tea, porridge, juice, and a selection of sliced fruits. For Harry, the elf brought the biggest bowl of fruit salad that Harry had ever seen, as well as juice and tea. At first he had just stood and stared at the bowl. But when an elegantly arched eyebrow caught his attention, he sat across from the Potions Master with a faint blush.

"I can't eat all of that," he informed his mate.

"Try hard," replied Severus, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You will need to eat many servings of fruits and vegetables, at least for the next few weeks, to ease your transformation. The Abeo Venefici are intrinsically connected to the earth, and so need more fresh food in their diets than most ordinary wizards or witches."

"What is this?" asked Harry, spearing a square of a tropical-smelling fruit that he had never seen before.

"Mango" replied Severus, "There should also be kiwi, pineapple, grapes, bananas, papaya, star fruit, apple, and some mixed berries in there." He leant forward in his seat and surveyed the heaping bowl. "Yes, it's all there."

Harry nodded his understanding and popped the fruit in question into his mouth. It was good! And sweet. The rest of the bowl was gone faster than Harry wanted to admit, though he hadn't managed to finish before Severus had reached over and agilely snatched a full strawberry from the bowl. The man gazed back at Harry unrepentantly while chewing his prize. Harry snickered and drained his tea cup.

Looking over at the newspaper that the house elf had brought in with their food, Harry reached across the table to grab the "Wizarding News" section. 'Ick,' he thought when he finger stuck to the page because of the sticky fruit juice that was the byproduct of his colourful breakfast. 'I'm all sticky. I'd better wash my hands before I touch anything else.' Dropping the paper, he rose and headed towards the washroom.

"Harry?" Severus' smooth voice stopped him before he could reach the door. "Where are you going?"

"I'd like to wash my hands, Professor," replied the dark haired youth, confused by the other man's need to know.

Severus rose and moved to step around Harry and into the washroom ahead of him. "Go ahead then," he said, shifting to lean against the wall, and gesturing towards the sink.

"Huh?" Harry winced inwardly. How was it that he was the mate of Severus Snape, the master manipulator of words and the possessor of the largest vocabulary that Harry knew of, and yet he himself was constantly uttering monosyllabic responses?

Snape's eyes darkened and he shifted closer to Harry. "I cannot be separated from you at the moment, especially not when you are in _this_ room. Please, allow me this."

Harry nodded and then looked down. "Umm … I kind of have to, well, you know, use the facilities," he stuttered.

"Go ahead."

Harry's head shot up and his eyes widened, a protest forming on his lips.

Snape moved forward and gathered his smaller mate into his arms. "Please. I'll turn away and we'll put up a silencing charm. I can't let you close that door. Not now."

Harry agreed, though shakily. Putting up a silencing charm, and waiting for Severus to turn and face the corner, he did what he needed to. Although embarrassing, it was worth it when he could feel the relief flowing down their connection. He didn't miss the near-silent "thank you" that was uttered as they moved back into the bedroom.

The next few hours were filled with conversation. Actual conversation. With Severus Snape. His potions professor. The great Greasy Git. Once Harry got over the surreal feeling of lying, wrapped in the older man's arms, sharing information (almost) freely, he quite enjoyed himself.

They stayed away from topics that were too heavy, or controversial, and instead spent the time trading nonsensical facts about themselves. Harry learnt that while Severus loved brewing potions, he did not enjoy teaching (big surprise there). Instead, he would have preferred to have opened his own apothecary or pharmaceutical shore. Harry shared his secret fear of dogs and his love of old Muggle movies. He learned that Severus had once been allergic to a great many things, but that it was not a problem now, because as a vampire he no longer reacted as a normal person would to irritants. Harry confessed to enjoying chocolate ice cream more than most people but hating anything strawberry flavored. The most shocking moment had been when Harry had told Severus that his favourite colour was red, and the older man had replied that his was "emerald green". The colour itself wasn't surprising, it was the fact that Severus had added, "like your eyes" in as well. This had left Harry gaping at his mate. Mouth hanging open, eyes wide; he knew he couldn't have made a very appealing picture. To his relief, the dour Potions Master mere raised his eyebrow and continued on with their conversation.

Hours later Harry rolled out of bed and headed towards the washroom, and feeling the spike of alarm from the man on the bed, he turned and waited for Severus to precede him in before erecting the necessary charms and using the facilities. Next came lunch, during which Severus presented Harry with a multi-layered salad, and ordered a simple sandwich for himself. After Harry had obediently crunched his way through as many forkfuls of mixed vegetables as he could manage, he asked the house elf to bring a tea service.

When the diminutive little elf brought the tea tray and set it on the table next his elbow, Harry thanked her and poured out the aromatic hot liquid. After pouring his own cup he discretely shuffled around the facts in Severus' mind for how the other man liked to drink his tea. The information found he pushed a steaming mug with one sugar, but no milk, across the table and stood.

"I'm going to go take a shower," he said, stretching his hands above his head and reaching for the ceiling in a much needed stretch.

"I will accompany you."

Harry's arms fell back to his sides. "No, it's alright. I promise not to close the door." He tried to sound reassuring and sincere. He was not going to shower with his potions teacher. His bigger, stronger, _male_ potions teacher. It was not going to happen.

It seemed that Severus had picked up on his thoughts because he stood and, taking out his wand, levitated a chair, his mug of tea and the morning paper into the washroom.

"I will wait as you shower," he said, before going over and sitting in the chair.

Harry blushed and grimaced. He was going to be naked, in the shower, vulnerable … and Severus was going to be sitting not even a full ten feet away reading the news. He longed to say no, to pursue an argument to gain his privacy, but he could feel the trepidation in Severus' mind, the lingering ache that their forced separation had caused. Harry sighed and ran his hand through permanently tousled hair. Fine. But he was going to think of some charm that made the shower curtain stick shut.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"How hard can it be to make a decent cup of tea? You did actually delve into my mind to find out the required facts, did you not?"

Severus' annoyed voice drifted through the steam and heat of Harry's shower.

"Er, yes?" Harry asked, confused by the other man's irritation.

"Than next time, perhaps, you can endeavor not to put me into a diabetic coma. Being a vampire does not mean that I am completely immune to the effects of ridiculously large doses of sugar!"

"S-sorry," Harry stuttered. _Next time. _Ha! As if there would be a next time. He was just trying to be nice, and he had only put in one teaspoon of sugar anyway!

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Pick up your shoes. There is no need to leave your discarded footwear in the center of the room where someone can easily trip over them." Once again Severus' voce was sharp with irritation as he scowled down at the pair of trainers that Harry had taken off when he had climbed onto the bed to read.

"They aren't in the middle of the room!" replied Harry indignantly. He put down his book and moved to pick up his shoes. "They were practically tucked under the bed." He stopped his retort when he saw the look on Severus' face and quietly placed his shoes by the door. "Sorry."

Harry sighed. Arguing was not going to help anyone. And the tense atmosphere was not going to just alleviate itself. The dark haired boy brushed his hair back out of his eyes and looked longingly at the dour man who was sitting rigidly at the table, pouring through a daunting tome. Severus wouldn't touch him. Not after his shower. Not as they sat side by side reading the books that Aerial had left for them about the Abeo Venefici, not even when Harry had asked Sev to pass him a tissue from the box on the side table. Nothing. Not a brush of fingers; not a nudge of a foot. If they didn't touch soon Harry was going to go mad.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

By supper the need to have some sort of contact with his mate was like a burn that needed to be soothed with ice. Harry longed for it. His thoughts strayed to the new memories of his mate's hands on his skin, putting cream on his burns, smoothing the hair out of his eyes. As the hours passed he even began to long for the touches they had shared before; the angry touches when Severus had grabbed his wrist after he had messed up a potion, or the brief contact of a hard shove after he had looked into his teacher's pensive. Anything.

Without the contact Harry was going insane, and he hated himself for it. If the Greasy Git didn't think it was worth touching him, then Harry shouldn't care. Right.

Supper was a quiet affair. They both had a light soup and some salad as the heat of late summer had permeated the room throughout the day. Harry was nervous and jumpy. He could barely eat anything, but could do little to calm his nerves. Most of his soup spilled from his spoon back into his bowl because his hands were shaking too much to hold the utensil steady. After his fifth try to bring the spoon to his mouth Harry gave up and pushed his dish away. "I'm not feeling very well, I'm just going to go to bed early," he mumbled, standing.

"Sit and eat Potter."

Hearing his last name on Severus' lips, yet again, stung. The fact that he had asked Snape not to call him that only worked to rub salt on the wound. Harry's green eyes flashed dangerously when he met a cold black gaze.

"No. I'm not feeling well. I don't know what you think gives you the right to tell me what to do all of the time now, but if I don't want to eat, then I'm not going to." Harry changed his mind; suddenly he wasn't tired anymore. He went to the door and started to put on his shoes, ignoring the fuming vampire behind him.

"You are my mate. You will do what I think is best for you. Now sit back down and finish your meal!" Had Harry bothered to turn around before he slipped out the door he would have seen the Severus was not his usual composed self. His eyes were black, his fangs visible the look on his face was bordering on wild.

But Harry didn't look back. He just stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him, effectively cutting off the angry tirade. Unfortunately, he did not make it more than a few steps down the hallway before his mind was swamped with a barrage of information. Instantly he had a pounding headache and his vision began to blur. He could feel it all; the thoughts of everyone in the Inn, all of the magic working to keep the establishment running, he could even sense the misery of the house elf in the shop next door, who had dropped a glass on the floor and was in the midst of punishing himself.

Harry turned, swaying on his feet and took two shaky steps towards his room before he was enveloped in cool, black darkness and he passed out.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Ronald Weasley!" Ron winced. It was uncanny how much Hermione sounded like his mother when she yelled his name.

"Yeah 'Mione?"

"Harry is our friend, and you're not even worried that he's been missing for two days! He could be anywhere. Death Eaters could have captured him and are taking him Merlin-knows-where this very moment, and all you have to say is 'He'll get here when he gets here'?" Hermione was worried; any logical person would be. But apparently she was the only logical person at the Burrow at the moment. Harry was supposed to have come to the Burrow via Ms. Figg's floo two days ago to spend the last two weeks of the summer vacation with his adoptive family, but hadn't shown up. And nobody was concerned! Even Mrs. Weasley had been content with Harry's aunt's explanation that her nephew had gone with his cousin and uncle on a fishing vacation and would be back for school.

"You heard that horsy aunt of his Hermione. He's gone fish catching or whatever. Harry'll be here in a couple of weeks. He's fine," said George, clearing the remains of his Rook from the chess board spread on the table between him and his younger brother. He winced when one of Ron's pawns swung his axe and clipped his finger when it got too close.

"Yeah Love, Harry's fine. Plus it's not like we can go and just get him. She didn't even know where they were going." Ron studied the board then beamed. "Queen to C-2." All three teenagers watched as the black Queen slid across the board and smoothly decapitated George's King-side knight.

"But that's just the thing. Harry's uncle would never take him on a vacation. And Dudley isn't the sort to sit in a boat and fish for fun. Something just doesn't seem right." Hermione fiddled absentmindedly with a loose thread on the collar of Ron's shirt. "Can't we just go to the house and make sure that everything's alright?"

Ron brushed off her hands, irritated. "Sure, alright, I'll go with you tomorrow to see. But we aren't going to find anything. Do you really think that Harry would miss coming here to stay with them for an extra couple of weeks? He hates it there."

Hermione sighed as the two red-heads turned their attention back to the game before them. She didn't want to wait until tomorrow, she wanted to go today. Something was wrong, she could feel it. There were just too many things that didn't add up. Well, if Ron wouldn't go with her, then she'd just have to find someone who would.

Wandering out of the kitchen, she headed out to the backyard where she was pretty sure she could find someone to accompany her. The yard was empty, except for the group of gnomes throwing pebbles at the bumble bees floating lazily amoung Mrs. Weasely's roses, and the large tent set up in the far corner. Making sure to give the gnomes a wide berth Hermione approached the tent.

"Professor Lupin, are you in?" she stood at the door of the tent waiting for an answer. About halfway through the summer Lupin had returned from his latest Order mission completely worn out with minor injuries and Mrs. Weasley had immediately insisted that he come to the Burrow until he had regained his strength. Remus had readily accepted, but insisted on staying in the tent so that he didn't pose too much of an imposition.

"Come in!" a voice called from within the tent, and Hermione ducked inside the flap. "Hermione, how are you?" Remus sat at his small kitchen table with an open book, a roll of parchment, and a quill with ink laid out before him. He motioned for her to sit and went to the cupboard to get two glasses and a pitcher of pumpkin juice.

"Pretty well, thank you Professor. How are you feeling?" Hermione accepted the glass of juice that Remus passed her and took a sip of the cool liquid as the tired looking man sat down.

"Oh, I'm well enough, thank you. You know, I haven't been your Professor for a few years now, you can call me Remus." The werewolf's deep brown eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, and he brushed his grey-flecked hair off of his forehead. "So, to what do I owe this visit?" he asked, taking a drink from his own glass.

"Well, actually I've come to ask you a favor," replied Hermione, sitting forward and placing her cup on the table. "You see, I'm worried about Harry and I was wondering if you would come to his relatives' house with me to make sure that everything is okay." The younger witch looked up hopefully, waiting for an answer.

"Of course I'll go with you. Now is definitely not the time for anyone to be wandering about alone. Just give me a moment to get ready and I'll meet you inside. We can floo to Ms. Figg's and go from there." With that Remus stood and began to roll up the parchment that he had been taking notes on.

"Great!" proclaimed Hermione, jumping up and stepping out of the tent. Finally, she was going to get some answers. Barley ten minutes later she and Remus were emerging from Ms. Figg's fireplace and into her cat-covered living room.

"Thanks so much Arbela" said Remus, clasping the older woman's hand in both of his own.

"Oh, it is no trouble dear. Are you are you won't stay for a piece of cake?" Hermione stifled a giggle at the look of horror on Remus' face; Ms. Figg's decade old cake was an ongoing laugh amongst many of the Order members.

"No! No thank you, we really must be going." And with that, the pair was crossing the lawn towards the Dursleys' front door. When they got there Hermione reached out and knocked firmly on the warm surface. No one answered. She knocked again. Again no one came to the door.

"Petunia must be out," she said, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. What were they going to do now?

Remus cocked his head and inhaled deeply. "Nooo … there are people inside. More than one I'd wager." At Hermione's curious look her explained, "I have an advanced sense of smell. It also helps that the full moon is next week." The younger witch nodded her understanding, and Remus moved forward and knocked forcefully on the door, rattling it in its hinges.

After a minute of banging the door was wrenched open and Vernon Dursley's large purple face glared out at them.

"What do you freaks want?" the beefy man demanded.

"Hermione cleared her throat and answered, "We're looking for Harry. Your wife told us that he had gone fishing with you, have you come back early?"

Vernon's chest seemed to swell to an even greater girth than usual. "He's not here. Now leave!" He made to slam the door but Remus' foot prevented him from completing his intent.

"Where is he if he is not here with you?" Amber specks surfaced in Remus' normally brown eyes as he took in Vernon's aggressive stance and angry countenance. He took an imposing step into the house, forcing the fat man to back away from the door.

"I don't know. Little bastard ran off, good riddance to him," sputtered Vernon, trying to regain his composure.

Remus growled low in his throat, and for a brief moment Hermione was very glad that she wasn't the center to the werewolf's anger.

"Look you two, shove off. The boy's not here. If you don't leave I'll call the authorities on you for trespassing!" In the midst of Vernon's declaration Petunia and Dudley walked from the kitchen into the foyer to investigate the source of the yelling. When Petunia saw who it was she immediately tried to usher Dudley back the way they had come, but it was to no use. In under a second Remus had his wand out and the three where rendered motionless by a silent spell.

"Where's Harry's room? Do you know Hermione? I didn't go up when we came to get him a few years back." Hermione shook her had, but climbed the stairs anyway, with Remus trailing close behind her. They checked all of the rooms. The first was obviously a master bedroom, the second must have been Dudley's room, if the piles of food and candy wrappers lying everywhere were anything to go by. The third room was filled with broken objects and unidentifiable piles of junk.

"I'm sure he said that he had a room up here," muttered Hermione, as she turned and descended the stairs. "Can you smell where he was most of the time?" she asked over her shoulder.

"I don't know. Maybe; I've never actually tried to locate anything other than a person or animal before." Remus closed his eyes and inhaled. Then inhaled again. When he opened his eyes, Hermione was a little frightened by just how light and amber tinted they had become.

"Professor?" she said timidly. But the quiet man shook his head and wandered into the kitchen, giving Vernon a brutal kick on his way past the family. He stopped when he reached the counter, by the sink.

"I can smell him here; he must have cooked often." He continued out into the hallway and stopping to open the pantry and the cupboards beneath the kitchen sink, then he prowled down the short hallway and froze by the cupboard under the stairs.

"Oh no," whispered Hermione. The cupboard. _Harry's_ cupboard. This was not good. She watched anxiously as Remus pulled open the door and stuck his head in, and jumped at the vicious howl of rage that sounded a scant second later. Shocked, she could only stand frozen as Remus lunged at Vernon and, grabbing him around his meaty throat, demanded, "What did you do, you sick bastard? What have you done with him? If you've touched one hair on his head I'll kill you right here!"

"Professor! Professor what's wrong? Professor Lupin, he can't answer, you've frozen him!" Hermione shrieked, grabbing the livid man's wrist and pulling with all of her might as Vernon's face turned steadily bluer. Her struggles did little to stop Remus' actions, but it seemed as though her words finally processed because Lupin dropped his hands and took a number of calm, steadying breaths.

"I can smell blood everywhere, all over the cupboard. And fear. There's a little bed in there. He slept in the cupboard." Remus' voice was barely more than a low growl and it rumbled up out of his chest, filled with fury. Hermione stood shaken. Blood. She walked over to the cupboard and ducked her head in, but saw nothing but a pile of rags. She turned and looked back at Remus, who was leaning against the front door, his hand over his face.

"Someone," he threw a burning look at Petunia, "tried to clean it up, I can smell the bleach, but the blanket …" Remus broke off, he head turned away, his eyes clenched tightly shut.

Hermione nodded; she didn't trust her voice just yet. After firmly latching the cupboard shut and taking a few calming steps away, she cleared her throat and said timidly, "R-Remus, we need to tell someone, Dumbledore; we should get Dumbledore."

Remus nodded shakily, and straightened from the wall, struggling to pull himself together. "I'll go floo him, you stay here. I'll be back in a few minutes." With that he turned and quickly exited, stalking across the lawn towards Mrs. Figg's house.

Hermione sat heavily on the floor, out of sight of Harry's frozen family members. No, not family. These were his – his _captors_. Hermione sighed loudly. And if they were his captors, for all these years, and no one noticed, what did that make all of Harry's _friends_?

No, she would not think about that right now. She'd think about it later, late that night when she could cry out the guilt sitting over her heart, but not right now. Right now she would do something useful. Getting up, she ran her hands distractedly through her bushy hair, and tied the lot up into a ponytail. Surely Remus wouldn't be more than a few minutes … it was definitely very disturbing to be here alone, with those monsters, in the house that they did Merlin-knows-what to Harry …

Agitated, Hermione wandered through the kitchen and into the sitting room. The room was typical of Petunia. Walls a pale pinkish beige, sofa done in a horrible floral print, and in the corner there was a glass-paneled cabinet displaying the most ugly glass figurines that the young witch had ever seen.

Hermione smiled a wide, devious smirk and walked over to the cabinet. She couldn't use magic, not yet, as her birthday wasn't until September, but she could wreak at least a little havoc in the Dursleys' disgustingly tidy home. With relish she picked each of the fragile porcelain women out of the display and smashed them onto the carpeted floor, hard enough to shatter. Though the carpet muffled most of the crash, she was satisfied with the pinging sound the pieces made as they smashed into dust.

Just as she had finished the last one off, she heard hurried footsteps coming up the front path, and the front door burst open.

"Really Remus, let me assure you that young Mr. Potter is perfectly fine. I'm sure there is just a simple misunderstanding." The Headmaster's voice was sickeningly confident, and he was as calm as ever as he looked over the Dursleys' still forms.

"Harry is not fine Headmaster!" Hermione strode down the hall to stand next the Remus and placed a hand on his shaking arm, hoping to calm him. Remus snarled, and she almost pulled back, before she realized that the snarl was not for her.

"Where is he?" the irate werewolf demanded. "If you know then tell us. I smell his blood Albus! And his fear. Something must be done to find him. And these people," Remus turned his fiery gaze on the family before them, "something must be done with them. Abuse Albus! I'm going to report them, if you won't do it." Remus huffed out a breath and waited for a response.

"Of course, my boy. Something will be done. But first, you should know, Harry is perfectly safe, as I have said. He did not make it to the Burrow as with his birthday came his inheritance; he is currently with his mate. It is essential that he remain so for at least another week, for his own well being."

Hermione breathed out with relief. Remus seemed to do the same. "Why didn't you tell us? Why didn't Harry tell us?" Hermione queried, a frown on her face. That wasn't like Harry, to let people worry.

"Oh, he asked me not to tell anyone, my dear. He doesn't understand these things yet. He needs a bit of time to get used to the idea …" Dumbledore smiled widely. "Well, now that that has been sorted out, let's all go back to the Burrow, shall we? I'm sure that Molly is wondering where you two have wandered off to." The older wizard turned to leave, but stopped abruptly at the sound of Remus' low warning growl.

"And them?" asked Remus, jerking his head to indicate whom he meant.

Albus chuckled, and Remus bristled at the sound. "We'll have to unfreeze them," he said, as if explaining the concept to a very small child.

"What?" Hermione couldn't keep the disbelief out of her voice. "We're not going to _do_ anything to them?" Surely that wasn't what Dumbledore meant to imply.

"I hesitate to take any action until Harry has an opportunity to give his input," explained Dumbledore, waving his wand at the Dursleys, releasing them from the spell. Then he stepped hastily out the door, followed by Remus and Hermione, as Vernon roared at them about "calling the police" and "never coming back".

"Fine," said Remus, brandishing his own wand towards the house, "but until then, none of them will be able to leave the house for extended periods of time."

Hermione nodded her approval as the three trekked across the lawn to floo back to the Burrow. Soon Harry's horrible family would get what they deserved, and until then, Remus' spell would keep them from escaping.

hr

* So here is chapter eight. I am so very sorry for how long it took me to post this these last two. Circumstances beyond my control … But I hope that you enjoyed it, and I promise that chapter nine will be up in a much more timely fashion. Thanks for reading! And thank you to all who have reviewed!! I can't tell you how much I appreciate hearing from you!


	9. Thirsty

Alright. He could concede that he shouldn't have yelled. And, come to think of it, yelling at_ Potter_ to sit down, shut up, and listen, had never been quite as successful as he would have hoped. But really, was it too much to hope that someday the foolish child would come to his senses and _listen_ when someone was trying to tell him something?

After Harry had stormed out – completely ignoring Severus' own warning roar – he had jumped up and swept the silly boy back behind the safety of the wards. Harry's mind just wasn't ready for him to go prancing about too far away from his mate. There was nothing to buffer the onslaught of information on his mind that way.

It hadn't taken long from the moment that the door opened to the moment that Severus was slamming it shut with his foot, his arms filled with his precious (although irritatingly pigheaded) cargo. Nevertheless, when he had turned around from laying Harry on the bed there was a quiet knocking at the door. He ignored it once, twice, three times, instead choosing to rid Harry of his baggy t-shirt and decrepit trainers. Just when he thought whomever had been knocking had given up, Aerial was there, leaning against the bedpost. Her expression was disappointed, to say the least, and it irritated Severus to no end.

And now here they were; Severus sitting propped up against the headboard of the bed, cradling Harry's now conscious, but sleeping form; Harry sleeping quietly, soaking up the physical contact that he had been craving, and Aerial sitting in the chair, studying one of the texts about Abeo Venefici. The room was uncomfortable. Severus didn't like it. It was fine when _he_ was the one making way-ward students feel like idiots, but it was perfectly unacceptable when he was the one being made to contemplate his own mistakes.

Aerial lifted her eyes from the book that she had been studying and gazed at the pair. Severus tensed minutely; her eyes were an odd coppery amber. Harry stirred and lifted his head from Severus' chest, looking around in confusion at the agitation flittering in his mate's mind.

"Relax Severus, before you scare Harry anymore today," the smile on the woman's face took the sting out of the rebuke. "You shouldn't put such importance on the colour of my eyes … you aren't the only one who has learned to conceal your emotions. But if it makes you feel better, amber signifies irritation, not anger."

Severus relaxed his tense muscles and dropped his eyes to the bedspread.

"Now if you don't mind me asking, what was it exactly that made it so hard for you two to be in the same room together for a few hours that made you leave, Harry?" Her voice was soft and gentle, but it was clear that refusing to answer the question was not an option. Severus' vampire growled low in his throat at the implied force, but Aerial ignored him; instead she kept her eyes locked on Harry.

Severus tried, he really did. He waited for a few long minutes for Harry to answer, for the boy to lift his head and explain his foolish actions. But in the end the wait was too much and he hesitantly pushed through the connection between their minds to find out for himself.

The initial happiness swamping his small mate's brain was unexpected. Harry was happy because … Severus was touching him? Confused, he pushed a little deeper and it dawned on him. Harry was happy at the contact because he hadn't touched him for hours. Oh drat.

Harry shuddered once when Snape's mind contacted his own, then froze. Would the other man be angry or annoyed at the menial reason for his choice to storm out? But no angry outburst came and the strong arms that held him didn't suddenly push him away. With a sigh Harry once again lifted his head from the heavenly chest that it was cushioned on and met the strange amber eyes that gazed calmly at him.

"I couldn't stand it anymore. He kept snapping at me for these stupid little things and he wouldn't … well … it makes me edgy, when we aren't in … contact enough." Harry ducked his head and blushed. It sounded so stupid when he said it out loud.

"And did you tell him that you needed to be in contact with him?" The question was tinged with amusement, as though Aerial already knew the answer.

"Nooo…"

"And why not? If I wanted you to hand me the book sitting there on the bed, which would serve me better: asking you to hand it to me, or sitting here and waiting for you to bring it to me of your own accord?"

Severus snorted, and Harry blushed harder.

"And you," exclaimed Aerial, pointing at Severus, "The lack of contact must have been driving you insane as well. What were you thinking? The first thing you should know about the Abeo Venefici is that we rely on the touch of our mate _to live_."

Severus knew that … well, sort of. He knew that Harry would have to have skin on skin contact to keep him healthy, he just didn't know that the contact was quite so imperative. Plus, it was so hard to be close to Harry; even now he could hear the faint _thump, thump _of his heart and the sound called to his vampire in ways that Severus would not admit.

Severus shrugged, dismissing the question. The warm body in his arms turned and he felt a small finger poke him on the chest.

"No way," said Harry, "if I had to tell, you have to explain too." Severus felt a frown draw his eyebrows together, and he fought valiantly against the urge to kiss the petulant pout off of the boy's full, perfect lips.

"I neither agreed to explain my actions earlier today, nor did I consent to do so in exchange for your own explanation." But at Harry's glower, he gave in and continued, "Harry, I am a vampire. I have been for a good deal many more years than you have been alive. And it was only just two days ago that I discovered that you are my mate. Your blood sings to me. I haven't … fed in nearly eight days now…." Severus broke off and watched the understanding dawn in Harry's eyes.

"Huh …," Harry started, but was cut off by another voice from across the room.

"Well now … just look at the sort of progress that you two can make when you _talk to each other_. Look, I know that this is new to you both and that it's hard to get used to, but it isn't going to get any easier if you don't address the challenges you're both going to face …" Aerial swept a tired hand over her eyes. "Are you feeling alright Harry?"

"Yes, thank you." At Severus' raised eyebrow he conceded, "I mean, I'm still a bit dizzy, but it's nothing horrible."

"Good, then you're both alright to work this out on your own. If you'll please excuse me; I left a rather unfortunate man suffering from a peculiar burning curse downstairs …" Emerald and black eyes followed Aerial's graceful form as she waked to the door. Just before she slipped out she turned back. "I think it would be wise to start a series of regular lessons for the pair of you together. They'll be centered on you, Harry, and your powers, just to help you so that you don't keep fainting on us all the time, alright?"

Harry nodded, and Severus inclined his head.

"Great! So, how about we schedule the first for the day after tomorrow and then one every three days after that?" Again her suggestion was met with two silent nods. "Good," she said, opening the door and stepping through.

"Thank you," called Harry as the door clicked shut.

Severus shook his head. He didn't really like that woman though, truth be told, he didn't like very many people. But something about her made him uncomfortable.

"Me too," said Harry, breaking the other man's train of thought before he clambered off of Severus; lap and stretched out on the bed next to him. Severus' vampire shifted agitatedly. Harry was close, very, very close. His warm body was pressed up along Severus' side and his arm was thrown across the older man's waist. Large emerald eyes peered up at him expectantly and Severus slid down and wrapped his arms back around the boy without thought.

"I suppose we have a few things that we should discuss," began Severus, stoically ignoring the burning thirst radiating from his throat. He could wait. He _would_ wait.

"How are we going to do this during the school year? It's like two weeks away right, and it's not like we can just stay locked in a room together all the time… Oh my gosh!" Harry flung himself from the bed and ran to the desk, rummaging frantically for a piece of parchment and a quill. Severus lay where he was and waited. The length of Harry's attention span would rival that of a common gnat…

"I forgot! I'm supposed to be at the Weasleys', I was supposed to be there like … two day ago … and then everything, with my uncle and then you. Oh they are going to be so mad…" Harry scribbled furiously on the parchment as he babbled. Severus sighed and rolled his eyes. Getting up languidly, he went and wrapped his arms around the boy's thin waist. He squeezed tighter when Harry made a frustrated sound and tried to pull away.

"Let go! I have to send this – where's Hedwig?" Harry stared at her empty cage, still struggling against the stone arms that held him.

"Relax," Severus' velvet voice calmed him instantly. "Do you really think that I've been keeping you here like some sort of hostage?" His tone would have been biting to anyone else, but Harry had spent too many Potions classes with this man to be offended. "Albus knows where you are, not to mention Poppy, and both have been in contact with the Weasleys from the first evening that you failed to arrive at the Burrow."

"Oh," Harry sagged in relief, "good."

Severus chuckled, "Yes, 'good'. Now come back and lie down before you fall over. You can write to your friends later and explain fully if you wish."

Harry nodded and let himself be guided back to the bed. After his little adrenaline rush had faded the room had apparently decided to mimic a Merry-Go-Round. It was with a sigh of relief hat he curled up against Severus' side and laid he head down on the firm chest.

"D-do they know everything?"

"No. Albus and I both felt that it was your choice what you want to tell them and when." Harry was a little ashamed of how happy that fact made him. He just wasn't ready to tell them, well, to tell _Ron_ that he was Snape's mate.

For a few moments there was silence, and Severus began to wonder if Harry had fallen asleep. But then the boy moved, turning to prop his chin on Severus' chest and he found himself gazing into twin pools of jade. He could always see it in Harry's eyes when he was tired.

"How long are we staying here? And, right, the thing about school …" The tired green eyes blinked slowly and nimble fingers snuck to catch a loose thread on one of the buttons of Severus' black robes. The fingers twisted idly as Severus answered.

"I think that it would be best for you to join me in my chambers for the duration of the year." Severus made a face, "There is no way in all that is magical that I am going to go anywhere near the Griffindor tower and it would be difficult for the both of us to be separated for too long." Harry nodded then smirked. Now there was a funny image; Snape surrounded by deep red bed hangings and golden tapestries. "As for how long we will be remaining here, I had planned to return to Hogwarts tomorrow."

Harry's heart stopped for a second. It actually did; Severus shot up in alarm and pressed his cold hands over the quiet organ. "Breathe Harry! Dammit, what's wrong?"

His heart resumed an unsteady tempo and Harry shook. Snape couldn't leave now! Not when he couldn't even make it three steps out the door without passing out. If Snape left he'd be alone and – and … Harry heard an odd hollow, tearing sound and belatedly realized that he was gasping for breath, his chest burning with the effort.

"Relax! It's alright you infernal brat! Steady now; breathe with me. In. Out. In. Out. Good. Slowly, that's good." Harry concentrated on matching Severus' calm breaths, laying his head back down to feel the steady raise and fall of the other man's chest. It took a while for him to calm enough to speak.

"I'm okay," he said feebly. He could feel Severus' disbelieving stare on the top of his head and soldiered on, "So I'll see you on the first day back then?"

"What?" Severus was confused. What was the boy trying to say? Of course he'd see him on the first day, and the day before, and everyday up until then … Oh. Bugger.

"You misunderstood," a cool hand stroked through Harry's thick hair, "**We** will be checking out tomorrow and you will be accompanying me back to my chambers, where we will live **together** during the school year. You forget that I cannot bear to be separated from you anymore than you can from me." They lapsed back into silence. Severus continued to card his fingers gently through Harry's hair, nearly massaging his scalp. It was calming; his mop of black hair was soft and smooth. Harry practically purred at the touch and Severus allowed himself a smile. His mate was happy again.

"So … you said you're thirsty right?" The muffled voice was unsure and shook a little at the end. It was, endearing, to say the least.

"Mm hmm," replied Severus, his impressive nose buried in the soft, fragrant hair covering Harry's head.

"So, shouldn't you, well you know … drink something?"

Severus snorted a cynical chuckle. "What, you would offer me a drink of water? I need to find a donor or at least a large animal…" he shuddered at the mere thought of drinking any blood that was not from his mate. He honestly didn't think that he could stomach it.

_Mate's blood! Just a little bit … he cares for you. It is yours to take! Mate. Mate. Blood. Mate! _Severus' vampire chattered in his head. 'No!' he thought back fiercely. 'Not until he's ready!' But the temptation was so strong with Harry just lying there before him. He could smell the blood beneath his skin and it called to him like no other smell ever would. Severus clamped his teeth together with an audible _tick_ as his fangs began to descend of their own accord.

Unfortunately the _tick_ alerted Harry to Severus' internal struggle and the epitome of heavenly temptation turned in is arms and gazed inquisitively into deep black eyes.

"No, not water, you prat. I'm your mate right? So you can have some of my blood. That's what the bond's supposed to mean isn't it? My blood is the best for you to drink or something…" Harry trailed off, hesitating at the open-mouthed shock that he read on Severus' face. "Right, sorry, wasn't trying to be an idiot … I don't really know what a vampire's mate does." He turned his head away, obviously put out.

"You're right," Severus growled out, his voice husky and low at the insinuation that he might get the drink from _his mate_ so soon. His vampire prowled close to the surface, screaming at his to tread carefully and not scare Harry away with his burning need for the boy's blood. "Your blood is the perfect sustenance for me. But Harry," here he reached out, oh so gently, and turned Harry's face back towards himself, "I won't push you. We, er, I, can wait until you are comfortable for this type of step."

Harry's eyes searched Severus' for long moments, as if testing the truth of his words. Finally, satisfied, he nodded slowly.

"It's alright. I – I trust you not to, well, do anything too bad," he smiled slightly at his own attempt to lighten the mood. Then he tilted his head to the side, offering his pale, perfect neck for consideration. Severus lay frozen. His vampire was thrilled, elated to the point of being hysterically happy and was celebrating loudly in Sev's head.

Severus nodded his head slowly, almost to clear it, and pulled Harry a little closer. "I don't think that it would be wise for me to bite your neck, it may cause, certain reactions, that I highly doubt you are prepared for as of yet." Harry and Severus shivered, one with fear of what type of _reaction_ would be caused by a biting, and the other with hardly suppressed joy at the thought of consummating the bond. Severus frowned, and resolved to address Harry's reaction later. Preferably after he had eaten...

"Alright," said Harry, attempting to sit up until Severus' rumbling growl stopped him, "how do you want to do this?" He felt a bit better now. After all of the physical contact and with a goal to work towards, his mind had cleared and he was relatively calm.

"Well, either I could bite your wrist, and feed from an artery there, or you could make a small incision at your wrist or elbow, to achieve the same purpose." Severus' lips curled into a snarl of distaste at the thought of Harry cutting himself. After a moment's pause he had his answer.

"Okay, y-you can bite my wrist then, just let me …" Harry swiftly rolled off the bed and grabbed his wand from the bedside table, as Severus watched him curiously. Harry waved his wand over first his right, than left wrists, mumbling a cleaning charm each time, before returning to Severus' side.

He squeaked in surprise as he was swept onto his mate's lap, and clung to a pair of strong shoulders as Severus settled himself sitting up against the headboard, with Harry cradled, once again, firmly against his torso.

Harry shivered lightly when a warm breath ghosted over his ear as a low, gravelly voice told him to bare one of his wrists. Thinking for a second, Harry stretched out his left arm; he was right-handed, so it would be better if his left wrist were the one bitten.

A cool, surprisingly gentle hand took his hand and Severus brought his wrist up to his nose and inhaled.

The smell was pure heaven. Even the tinge of fear that radiated out of his mate's mind could not dampen Severus' bliss. He inhaled again. '_Yesss'_ hissed his vampire, and the man could feel that part of himself practically purr with contentment. This felt so right. But … something confused him. Severus dragged his coherent mind back with a vicious tug.

"Why the cleaning charm?" he asked, not removing Harry's wrist from in front of his face.

Severus' breath puffed out over his skin and Harry sat dazed for a moment, wondering why he never noticed that his wrist was quite so _sensitive_. "Um … well, I figured you'd want it to be clean, you know?" he answered, resting his suddenly light head on Severus' shoulder, pressing his hot forehead up against the cool patch of skin exposed near the man's collar. Since when had the room become so cold? It felt like he was getting a fever again.

"Don't," growled Severus, "Don't ever do that, you taste perfect without any sort of charm." He lapped the underside of Harry's wrist lovingly with his tongue to prove his point, groaning at the combined sensation of the heat of Harry's forehead pressed against his neck, and the exquisite taste of his mate's skin. It was nearly too much.

"Are you sure?" he asked, praying that Harry didn't refuse; he didn't think he could stop now even if he wanted to.

"Y-yeah, go for it," came the shaky reply. Instantly Severus' mind switched; his vampire was in control. His eyes darkened, fangs dropped completely, even his senses seemed to heighten.

He carefully sank his fangs into the wrist before him, hearing the answering hiss of pain. _Mate! Blood, blood, mate, love, blood. Soooo good. Claim mate. Mine!_ the vampire chorused as a thick stream of blood flowed over his tongue. Severus felt himself swallow; the blood was delicious, better than anything he had ever tasted before. Better than life itself. But under the haze of his instincts Severus fought to stay still, waiting for the venom in his fangs to ease his mate's discomfort. Because that was what was important; Mate had to feel good. Mate had to want to do this again. _Mate. Mate. Mate._

He felt it instantly when the venom started to work. Harry moaned and pressed closer to him, attempting to find friction for the tightness that had started to form in his groin.

Severus' vampire smirked around the wrist in his mouth. Yes… Mate was happy. Mate felt good. Closing his eyes, he let the blood flow down his throat relishing in the taste, suckling gently at the wound. _Sooo good._ Snape swallowed again and again, then slowed, knowing that he couldn't take too much more of the elixir pouring into his mouth without endangering Harry. With a sigh, he eased off the pressure and licked at the twin puncture marks to close and heal them.

When he was sure that the wounds had closed completely, he placed a few butterfly kisses on the wrist and held Harry's body closer, stilling the wiggling movements that wracked the small frame.

Harry groaned in frustration and turned, straddling the thin hips of his mate, trying to make his arousal known. At first it had hurt. Then it was just uncomfortable. But after maybe four seconds it started to feel so good. And now he needed … well, he needed Sev to touch him and take him and hold him close. He needed to feel his mate's cool skin against his own heated flesh and he pressed his head back into Severus' neck as he rocked against the burgeoning hardness that proved that he was not the only one aroused by their recent activities.

Severus panted and groaned, struggling to regain control. Now that his vampire had been fed, he wanted to claim his mate. _Now. Right now._ And Harry's desperate rutting was not making his struggle any easier. Even as he thrust up to meet Harry's frantic grinding, he forced his arms to move and stilled the boy's hips, wrapping his arms around the too thin waist and pulling the smaller body down on top of his own.

Harry mewled in protest and bucked, so close to the edge that it nearly hurt.

"Shh," a soothing voice whispered in his ear, "hush now. Come back to me little one. Shh…" Harry sobbed in a breath of frustration and collapsed against the firm chest beneath him. So close …

Severus sighed in relief, and disappointment, when Harry calmed, melting into his embrace. This was good. He wouldn't take advantage of Harry like that, not when his venom was coursing through Harry's veins, making him want things he might not rationally want. Not now … later, when his mate wanted him, Severus, not the vampire.

So he sat and rocked his exhausted mate, whispering soothing words and reassurances into the tiny ear, listening as the frantic heartbeat slowed and Harry's breathing evened out. After long minutes of silence Harry finally looked up, and Severus had to consciously stop himself from smirking at the flushed state of his mate's face.

Harry blushed crimson when he met Snape's eyes; he couldn't have hidden his embarrassment if his life had depended on it. He had humped his teacher, his _Potions Professor._ At least he knew that Severus was in control of his vampire, seeing as his black eyes were back to their typical colour; the pupil had shrunk back to a more human size. But he was so embarrassed. With what seemed like an inordinate amount of effort Harry pushed himself off of the comfortable chest he had been stretched out on and curled up against the farthest bedpost.

The pair sat in silence as a good deal of time passed. Harry concentrated on breathing evenly, Severus just waited, listening to his mate's heartbeat to ensure that he hadn't taken too much blood. Eventually Severus sighed deeply.

"Harry, I know you may be, uncomfortable, with what just happened but you shouldn't be. The venom in my fangs secretes a powerful aphrodisiac, which aids in numbing any pain. Our reactions were to be expected." Harry glanced up, looking slightly reassured, and allowed Severus to pull him back across the bed.

"I'm tired," said Harry in a small voice, once he had settled comfortably.

Severus nodded against perpetually ruffled hair and summoned a light blanket, which he draped over Harry. "So sleep," he said, watching Harry's eyes slide closed. Yes, this was alright. He was happy; his mate was well, and in his arms. Severus couldn't remember the last time he had felt quite so content.


	10. Important

I would like to start off with an apology. I began this story a ridiculously long time ago with the intention of posting once per week, to the ultimate goal of taking no longer than one year to complete the piece. Obviously I have failed to achieve this and I apologise for leaving you hanging and hanging and hanging. I hate it when authors do that to me, and I hate that I've done it to you.

On that note, I am posting this note to inform everyone who is interested that I have given this fic to a good friend of mine, who has much more drive and enthusiasm for than I am left with. You can look her up here, her username is – and I trust that you'll be more than happy with her taking over my little project.

She isn't ready to post yet, as she is reworking the existing chapters before she begins her own haul through Potterverse. There is a tentative start date planned for around the beginning of April. I just wanted to let you know what is happening and that there is hope yet for this little piece of imagination.

When begins posting, I will inform you here and, after a period of time, inevitably take down my incomplete work.

I am sorry to have put you all through the wait. I sincerely hope that you enjoy where this story may go when it is out of my hands. I know I'll be following it.

My best,

Steppenwolf


	11. Important EDITED

This is an edited re-post of my previous message - I'm sorry for the delay; I hadn't realized that had edited out the new author's name in the first time. The name can be found ON MY PROFILE, where I hope t won't be edited out. If there are still problems, please feel free to send me a pm or an email and I'll let you know where you can find the fic individually. Sorry again!

...

...

I would like to start off with an apology. I began this story a ridiculously long time ago with the intention of posting once per week, to the ultimate goal of taking no longer than one year to complete the piece. Obviously I have failed to achieve this and I apologise for leaving you hanging and hanging and hanging. I hate it when authors do that to me, and I hate that I've done it to you.

On that note, I am posting this note to inform everyone who is interested that I have given this fic to a good friend of mine, who has much more drive and enthusiasm for than I am left with. You can look her up here, her username is ON MY PROFILE and I trust that you'll be more than happy with her taking over my little project.

She isn't ready to post yet, as she is reworking the existing chapters before she begins her own haul through Potterverse. There is a tentative start date planned for around the beginning of April. I just wanted to let you know what is happening and that there is hope yet for this little piece of imagination.

When begins posting, I will inform you here and, after a period of time, inevitably take down my incomplete work.

I am sorry to have put you all through the wait. I sincerely hope that you enjoy where this story may go when it is out of my hands. I know I'll be following it.

My best,

Steppenwolf


End file.
